Land of the Alter Ego

LJ 18th anniversary

2017-04-27T15:57:46Z

Seems fitting to leave this here.

LJ kerfuffle

2017-04-06T14:33:13Z

Despite the fact that I don't post often, I do still lurk on LJ quite a bit, and I can't quite imagine leaving. That said, so many folks I know and follow are departing that I am at least taking steps to cover my rear, as the saying goes. I started a blog at Dreamwidth years ago, just never really used it, but that's clearly going to change. I'm starting the frightening process of migrating this enormous mess over there, though I suspect the queue is rather long at the moment. I've been on LJ since 2001 and can't say yet if I will eventually sever ties, but I'll definitely be in both locations for the time being. So if you're heading over to DW, please do find me there. It's a bit barren at the moment, but that will change soon. http://emluv.dreamwidth.org

15 years

2016-09-11T16:55:24Z

Fifteen years ago, Live Journal was the place to be, as regular phone reception in/out of NYC was snarled all to hell, and cell reception became nonexistent with the fall of the towers. But all of us in the city at the time could post to our journals, letting friends around the country and the world know that we were safe. Hard to believe so many years have gone by. Sometimes it still feels like yesterday. Thinking of you all...

Round and round and round

2016-02-26T05:14:41Z

I am very glad tomorrow is Friday. This has been a painfully long week. Unfortunately, it's also been the sort of week where everything takes five times longer than it should, other people are not doing their jobs, and unwanted interruptions keep rearing their ugly heads, which basically means I'm still somewhere in the middle of Tuesday's to-do list. There's also the chance I'm coming down with something, or else allergy season has already kicked off, because my nose is stuffy and my throat is tickly. In short, I'm a cranky girl who needs a real weekend. In the absence of one I'm willing to settle for the pretend sort, where I still work but at least don't have to answer the phone or email.

On the upside, as of this past Sunday I have art hanging over my fireplace. We won't discuss how many years that took me. I really want to measure a bunch of other unframed things I have lingering in the closet and go see if I can find some cheapish solutions at Ikea, but I've been a bit spendy lately so I think the rest of the picture hanging must wait at least until after pay day, and more likely until after I do my taxes. Instead I am going to try to weed out some more books to donate to the library and possibly get a few stacks off the floor. Yes, I need a new bookcase. This should not be a surprise. But it's also another good reason to hold off on a trip to Ikea. That place is dangerous and my impulse control when it comes to shelving is in short supply. I'll just start telling myself how much easier it would be to vacuum if I could shelve all the random book piles, and before I know it I'll be loading heavy boxes into the back of my car.

At loose ends

2016-02-18T03:58:34Z

I'm having one of those days where I don't quite know what to do with myself. Oh, I got work done and paid bills and cooked a pot of chili for dinner and did some reading. But none of it's doing anything to cut through this... restlessness? Boredom? Not quite sure what it is. But it's a dangerous feeling, because I have a tendency to handle it by going and buying doughnuts or ice cream or something, despite the fact that hunger's not the problem and I'm not really jonesing for something sweet. I just... don't know. Don't want to watch anything, my books aren't grabbing me, I opened a couple of writing projects and just kind of stared at them. It's a mystery. Blah...

RIP, Alan Rickman

2016-01-14T20:23:01Z

First thing I saw online this morning, and I just burst into tears. This week is wrecking me in the worst way...

emluv @ 2016-01-11T20:41:00

2016-01-12T04:41:11Z

So Mercury is retrograde and being quite obvious about it, David Bowie is dead (and how is that possible?), and a friend forwarded me the dates for my high school 30th reunion (which I have no intention of attending. I haven't been to any of the others, why start now?), and I'm feeling very old and Monday-ish. Not the best mood for tackling big goal type stuff. The problem with new years is that I start them with the best of intentions, and then reality comes along and chuckles and points at me.

On the upside, I've got a flight booked to Atlanta the second week in February for a couple days of quality face time with my co-workers (which I'm basically just considering group-hug week in my head). It's been forever since I saw most of them outside of a conference setting where we were running around meeting with clients and kind of just waving at each other as we passed in hotel lobbies or on the street. Also, I'm drinking lovely red wine right now. Unfortunately I should be editing a manuscript, which I kind of forgot until after I'd poured, so... oops. So that's being tabled until tomorrow. Instead I'm going to go read something fluffy and call it a day. And in future, I will try to post on some other day than Monday...

peeks out nervously to see who's still around

2016-01-05T05:33:00Z

Happy New Year, everyone! Yes, I'm still here. I'm actually a bit dismayed at how long it's been since I've posted, as I do read my friends list regularly. I kept meaning to do a nice long catch-up post, but as is the way of these things, the longer I put it off, the more I had to say, and the more daunting the task. So I'm declaring a clean state and just starting fresh with the new year. Suffice to say that I survived 2015. It had its ups and downs, per usual, but came out mostly on the plus side in the end.

As for 2016, I have high hopes and many plans. I'm still trying to iron them out as I ended up getting back from visiting my parents in CT for the holidays a few days later than intended. (Delayed flight which meant I would have missed my connection, so I had to rebook, pushing my trip back to Los Angeles from the evening of 12/29 to the morning of 1/1.) I'm just shaking off the last of my jet lag (exacerbated by my staying up to watch the ball drop and then just... continuing to stay up until I needed to leave for the airport at 3:45 am), and trying to energize for the most physical thing on my to-do list, which is to get back to running. I was sporadic at best the past year, and I miss it on both a physical and mental level. I just have to retrain myself to crawl out of bed early enough to run mornings, because if I don't go then, I just don't go.

Beyond that, I've got a bunch of work projects in the works, both agency-related and personal, including a revamp of my work blog and a long-long-long-overdue designated URL. I don't know why I didn't do it sooner. Anyway, more on that when it's ready to launch, which I hope will be sooner rather than later, but it's just one of several things I'm juggling and the most flexible of the lot.

I'd like to plan a nice vacation for the fall, but the reality of visiting my parents over Christmas included the realization that we've reached the stage where I need to go back and spend time with them more often to help them get some things taken care of that just won't happen if I leave it solely to them. So chances are more of my travel time will take me to CT than to other places I'd prefer to go, such as Vancouver (for a non-conference trip for once) or Paris. I won't say neither is possible, but they're looking less likely.

I will end there, with a promise not to be a stranger. I hope everyone's year is off to an excellent start.

Out with the old...

2015-01-01T02:25:35Z

2014 has not been my favorite year. It's been challenging, and most days that would have been putting it kindly. And it hasn't just been me. While I've been juggling work and personal issues, I've also been watching my friends struggle with their own work and personal issues, and more than a few health problems that have me sending out virtual hugs and crossing fingers. Still, I visited a few new places with work, signed some new clients, and caught up with a few people I hadn't seen in a while. Other friends had good work years, with new accomplishments, and even a couple of new businesses. There are adorable new babies in my circle, and a new home owner. Hopeful things.

But I'm really looking forward to 2015.

My apartment is clean. There's a pot of chili on the stove (because I'd like a little more spice in my life), and black-eyed peas and an arugula salad lined up for tomorrow, and the fridge is filled with lovely healthy foods. I came home from visiting my family for Christmas to two checks in my mail box. I've set up my spreadsheet for tracking my writing output in the coming year, and I'm polishing up my list of resolutions -- and their accompanying action plans. And I've got plane tickets for a really great trip come April.

I know what I want 2015 to look like, and I'm going to make it happen.

Wishing you all a very wonderful new year, filled with joy and love and good health, and great success with all your plots and plans.

wanderlust

2014-08-10T18:11:14Z

Last night I dreamt I was on a fishing boat. Not one of those little day cruisers, either, where you just drop a line off the back, but a serious trawler. I woke up with the smell of salt in my nostrils. The night before last, I dreamt I was in Paris.

Not sure if this means my brain's in storytelling mode, imagination kicking into overdrive, or if I just really, really want to travel somewhere...

emluv @ 2014-08-02T09:23:00

2014-08-02T16:23:12Z

I'm enjoying one of those rare lazy Saturday mornings. There are hard-boiled eggs and strawberries and coffee. I've got the soundtrack to Guardians of the Galaxy playing, because I saw the film yesterday and immediately came home and downloaded the music, since it was going to be stuck in my head all weekend anyway. Loved the film, which was really, really funny and had great, loving 80s references threaded through it, and pulled off some real miracles, as far as I'm concerned, in that they somehow made me care about a tree and a raccoon, the latter of which I was kind of determined to be annoyed by going in. Chris Pratt's character felt like some weird combination of Han Solo, Indiana Jones, and Mal Reynolds, which all seemed to make perfect sense. Zoe Saldana kicked butt in the best of ways. And finally, despite the really different tone, this movie still slots into the Marvel universe perfectly. So yes, I'm a little frustrated with Kevin Feige and his idiotic rationalizations about why there's still no Black Widow movie on the schedule (or some female lead -- I'm flexible), but that doesn't mean I'm not still onboard for what they're doing. And I do think they'll get there, even if they're moving a little too slowly. I think the recent changes in the comics division show they do intend to follow through. Perhaps this goal to get to three movies a year will help.

My plan is to get some work done this weekend, even though I'm hyper aware that attending a conference last week means I technically worked last weekend as well, and I am trying to hit that life/work balance a little better. But I basically took my half day/summer Friday yesterday to go sit in a wonderfully air conditioned movie theater, so I don't feel too bad about committing myself to my desk a bit more. I've got one project to read and another to edit, and I should get part of one of them off my plate. But other than that, I'd really like to get some serious outlining done for a personal writing project, and also a bit of writing in on the fic I'm currently playing with, and if there's time left, read a book. You know, one with a cover.

I'm conscious that the entirety of my weekend plans revolve around sitting. I wish this heat wave would break so I'd feel inspired to actually move around a little. I think I've got a few days more to go... Blah. The hotter summers get, the more I want to move back over the hill into cooler territory. Maybe I should start playing the lottery so I can afford Santa Monica. Ocean breezes sound lovely right now.

GYWO Bingo Card

2014-07-13T17:39:33Z

Because I've been trying to write more for me. And because prompts are always helpful. This is a settings Bingo card (there's one for genres, also), and I'm quite intrigued by some of the choices. We'll see what I can come up with between now and the end of the year. (Note for the curious: GYWO = Get Your Words Out, a closed writing community.)

Countdown

2014-06-20T17:44:23Z

I've scheduled myself an official "stay-cation" the week of June 30th. We're closed July 3rd/4th anyway, and there's generally little-to-nothing going on in the publishing world that week, so it seemed like a good time to do it. Plus, despite my new-found sense of sugar-free calm, I have not had an actual, unplugged, just-for-me-time vacation in… well, it's been years, and I think I need one. Unsurprisingly, I plan to lie around and read a lot of books that have absolutely nothing to do with my job. The joke there, of course, is that I have enough books on my to-read pile(s) to last me for a year-long vacation, forget about a week. But half the challenge is to see how much ground I cover, so there you have it. I am ridiculously excited about this, which I suppose is as good an indicator as any that I'm over my book-burnout phase.

Lest anyone worry that I will be this half-blind, crazy person at the end of my week off, I fully intend to leave the house occasionally, maybe see a movie, meet up with folks for lunch, head down to Santa Monica and walk on the beach. Or maybe just read on the beach…

CHEF the movie

2014-05-17T18:45:45Z

It occurs to me that I've really spent very little time posting here lately, despite the fact that my Friends feed is always open in a tab. *shrugs* I wish I could say it was because I was too busy to post, but it's more a case of not having much to talk about, especially if I try to avoid whining, which I've been doing.

However, I actually left my house yesterday, in a quest to find air conditioning I didn't have to pay for directly, which leads to chatty things. Saw Jon Favreau's CHEF, which was such a fun, feel-good movie. It had me laughing out loud and also tearing up a bit (because I'm a sap, and this is what I do), and also -- fair warning -- craving a cubano sandwich like nobody's business by the time I walked out of the theater. Scarlett Johansson and Robert Downey Jr. both have bit parts, and RDJ is ridiculously insanely funny. (Also, so weird to see him clean shaven, but a really smart move because it makes it easier to disassociate from Tony Stark/Iron Man.) Sofia Vergara and John Leguizamo were terrific, but the best characters/relationship between characters were Favreau and Emjay Anthony, who plays his son. The kid is great, and the two of them together were really adorable. I will say, however, that if I'd had anything to do with this movie, I'd have pulled Favreau aside and told him not to name two characters Martin and Marvin, because I spent a good portion of the film trying to figure out why there were two people with the same name until I came home and checked IMDB to get it straight.

Anyway, that is all to say that I really enjoyed the movie and highly recommend it. Such a relief to find something entertaining to see that isn't a comic book movie (even if Happy and a few Avengers were present).

DST

2014-03-10T15:02:03Z

I love springing forward. I love the extra hour of sunshine come 5pm. What I don't love is this: Trying to wake the fuck up the first Monday of Daylight Savings Time. Oh my god. Soooooo tired…..zzzzzz

Holiday cheer and other misc. mumblings

2013-12-01T21:14:27Z

I seem to have misplaced November. Not only did it go swiftly, but I didn't do much in the way of writing about it. Not that there was much exciting going on. Work, a quicky weekend trip up to San Francisco, and a two-week long head cold. It wasn't really that I was too busy to chronicle; more like I didn't have much to say.

I will recap a bit of the holiday weekend, however, since I swore off work entirely and therefore have actual activities to talk about for once. It was my usual hermit Thanksgiving. M invited me down for dinner but I really wasn't in the mood to drive anywhere, or to feel like I was horning in on someone's family holiday, so I declined. Besides which I'd already purchased chicken and beans and stuffing and bacon, and had the fixings for pumpkin tea bread with pecan topping, and no real desire to set aside my plans. So Wednesday I baked, and the house smelled lovely. Thursday morning I indulged in bagels and bacon and lots of hot coffee, though only after going for a run. I committed to the Runner's World holiday streak, where you attempt to run every day from Thanksgiving through New Year's Day, though with the caveat that I'm not in good enough shape right now to actually run every day, even though they say even a one-mile run counts. But I'm just getting back into the swing following months of inactivity and my cold stalling out the progress I was making in October, so my personal deal with myself is to run at least five days a week and then to walk purposefully on the two days off. That's working so far, as I managed short runs Friday and yesterday, and today will be a walking day because I'm bloody exhausted.

Anyway, Thanksgiving dinner was roast chicken and green beans with sausage cornbread stuffing, and lovely red wine, followed by pumpkin bread for dessert. I've been indulging in leftovers all weekend, which means I haven't needed to cook again, and it's been lovely. Though this evening I'm going to make lentil soup, because I'm tired of chicken and ready for something to break up the monotony.

After weeks of having not enough time, I've finally worked my way through my DVDs of The Hollow Crown. I'd caught Richard II when it aired on PBS, but my travel schedule was such that I missed Henry IV pt. 1 and I didn't want to watch the rest without seeing that, so I waited. As a result, I've had a fabulous Shakespeare fest the past three nights, and I'm so completely ready to pack a bag and fly off to England that it's not even funny. I'm practically twitching. Never mind that I have neither the time nor the budget for such an adventure. Also, a part of me wants to sit down and watch all four plays again, back to back, four nights in a row. (I didn't rewatch Richard II, and now I'm wishing I had.) I suspect I will pack them for my trip home for Christmas and subject my mother to them.

The other big weekend indulgence has been reading books with covers. Well, one book, mostly, since I delved into Donna Tartt's THE GOLDFINCH, which is over 700 pages long and dense reading in the best of ways. I'm taking my time, because even while a part of me wants to gallop through the entire thing, the writing is too gorgeous to rush. I've also been reading online, mostly book reviews and author interviews, because that's pretty much the way I roll. Busman's holiday, etc.

I hope everyone's had a wonderful weekend, holiday or not. Would love to hear what you've all been up to. I'm not the only one who's been quiet on LJ.

Edited, because I apparently have developed an addiction to repeating the word "lovely," and several of them needed to go.

blah, blah, fic, blah

2013-09-07T00:39:15Z

So apparently my tired, overheated mind decided that editing long-forgotten fic that takes place in Vermont in December was a valid method of combatting the SoCal heat wave. Two weeks of temps over 90 (and often over 100). I needed to think about snow and cold weather. The result was a short follow up to my Jim-and-Bones rom com challenge fic from last year, Can't Judge a Book by Its Cover, entitled A Matter of Definition. The new fic has nothing to do with the rom com the original was based on -- I take all the blame. Me and my melted brain...

So I signed up for this...

2012-12-24T13:48:07Z

GetYourWordsOut: One Last Time (Probably)!
Pledges & Requirements | GYWO.net

Anyone else game? You need to pick a level and pledge soon because membership is only open for a short time.

FIC: Not in Our Stars (Star Trek AOS, R) Part 5/5

2012-04-29T14:48:23Z

FIC: Not in Our Stars (Star Trek AOS, R) Part 4/5

2012-04-26T23:26:39Z

Title: Not in Our Stars
Author: Emluv emluv
Beta: Lindmere lindmere
Fandom/Spoilers: Star Trek AOS, borrowing from TOS
Characters: Leonard McCoy, Jim Kirk
Rating: R
Length: approx. 36,300 words complete
Warnings: Some swearing; minor violence; angst; mentions of physical, emotional, and sexual abuse in a captive situation as described by a character after the fact.
Disclaimer: Star Trek is owned by the Roddenberry estate, Paramount Pictures, and probably a few others who are not me. No profit made, no infringement intended.
Archive/Distribution: Please ask.
Date: April 19, 2012

Summary/Author’s Note: Written for a prompt on the buckleup_meme requesting a fic in which brilliant young medical student Leonard McCoy volunteers for a Doctors Without Borders-type organization and ends up helping with the rescue efforts on Tarsus IV, where he meets a teenage, traumatized Jim Kirk, who will, for whatever reason, allow only McCoy to treat him. I have played fast and loose with TOS information about Tarsus IV and its location, making it closer to Earth so that McCoy could feasibly make it there and back in one summer.

Title taken from Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar, Act I, scene ii: “The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, But in our selves...”

This fic is complete and will be posted in five parts at regular intervals. Additional notes follow the final part.

Back to Part One

~*~

Part Four

~*~

It was slow going, but Jim managed to consume an entire bowl of broth with no ill effects. Leo sat by his bedside and talked to him while he ate, recounting more stories about his grandparents’ horse farm, learning to ride, mucking out stalls summers when he was growing up. Jim concentrated on his lunch, spooning up tiny sips of soup at a steady pace, but Leo could see he was engaged by the conversation by the way his gaze would flicker sideways whenever Leo paused for more than a few seconds.

Once he was certain Jim was keeping the food down, Leo sent a comm. to Sheila, who brought Tommy in for a visit. The older boy shuffled gingerly into the ward, clearly wary of putting weight on his newly mended leg, but as soon as he caught sight of Jim, he bounded the rest of the way into the room and climbed onto the bio-bed, sending the sensors into a frenzy. Leo quickly adjusted the settings to account for the additional presence, then backed off, leaving the two boys with their heads bent as they talked quietly, Jim soothing Tommy by holding his hand.

“We ran a tox screen on him,” Shelia said when Leo joined her. “Not a trace of any drugs in his system, just like Jim. Whatever they used on him, whatever caused this regression, we’re shooting in the dark,” she said, voice laced with frustration.

“If we knew what the goal was, maybe we’d be able to work backwards from there,” Leo suggested. “Determine the drug based on why they were drugging them all in the first place.”

“Perhaps, but I fear it’s a moot point. Without Kodos himself or someone in his inner circle, someone with a modicum of power, we’re not likely to learn their motivations. From what you told me, Jim doesn’t know, and I doubt any of the other children do, either.”

Leo wasn’t entirely sure that was the case. He suspected Jim knew quite a lot that he wasn’t ready to share yet. Oh, he had no doubt the kid was in the dark about what drugs were administered to them. But as for the bigger picture--the reasons for their being drugged--Leo was willing to bet that Jim had at least some idea what was going on.

They watched the boys from a distance for a few more moments until Leo became aware that Jim was shooting him glances over Tommy’s shoulder, and that the boy was starting to rock ever so slightly. “Looks like he’s reached his limit,” he said quietly.

Sheila nodded. “He’s doing better but it’s all clearly been traumatic for him,” she agreed, stepping forward.

“I’ll see you again tomorrow, Tommy, okay?” Jim coaxed the other boy, rubbing his hand as Leo and Sheila drew near the bed.

“I don’t wanna be by myself,” Tommy said.

“You’re going to be fine,” Jim told him. “I bet the doctor will let you go visit with Liza and Kevin and Tal and the others later, right?” he added, turning to look at Sheila.

“Of course,” she agreed. “Come on, Tommy. Let’s get you a snack and maybe a nap, and then you can see the rest of your friends.” She urged him gently from the bed and murmured to him as she led him back out of the room.

When Leo turned back toward Jim, he was unsurprised to find the boy’s eyes pinned to the doctor and Tommy as they made their slow progress off the ward. Even when he resumed his seat next to the bed, Jim’s focus remained steadfast. Instead of saying something to get his attention, Leo sat quietly, watching Jim as more emotions flittered across his face than he was accustomed to seeing in his guarded expressions.

“Leighton,” he murmured finally, staring unseeingly toward the now-empty doorway. “His name is Tommy Leighton. His parents are part of some kind of research expedition, so he was staying here with his brother and sister-in-law until they were back on Earth.”

Leo nodded. “Thanks for telling me, Jim. Someone will get hold of his parents.”

Jim closed his eyes and sank backward into the mattress, lips pressed together in a tense line. Leo watched him for a long moment, then rose and went over to the doorway. He stuck his head out and signaled to the security detail assigned to screen Jim’s visitors. “I’m going to close the door so the kid and I can talk,” he murmured. “Could you give us a warning knock if Puri or anyone else wants to come in?”

“Sure thing,” the ensign told him. “Bryce said you might need some privacy,” he added with a knowing nod.

“Thanks.” Leo pulled the door into place, fastening the latch. It was flimsy, giving more of an illusion of privacy than serving as a true barrier, but it was enough to keep approved visitors from barging in, and Leo hoped that it would make it easier for Jim to open up.

Turning back toward the bed, he found Jim watching him, his gaze no more than slivers of blue peering out from under heavy lids. He was under no illusions that the kid was actually willing to talk about anything beyond what he felt absolutely necessary, even if he had seemed resigned to doing so earlier, but Leo suspected that if the options were being forced to speak with someone else and having a conversation with him, Jim would choose talking to Leo as the more familiar and comfortable option. At least he hoped that was the case.

“Okay, kid,” he murmured, settling back in his chair, aware of the weight of Jim’s attention. “Here’s what I think. Everyone wants a name from you, they want to be able to track down some family members for you, get you the support you need and a safe place to go when you get off this rock.”

“I’ve told you, I haven’t got anywhere,” Jim murmured.

“I know you did. And I believe you think that’s true. Maybe it is,” he added quickly, when Jim started to protest. “But your name isn’t that important to me.” He leaned forward, elbows propped on his knees, hands dangling. “If it makes you feel safe to keep that information to yourself, that’s fine. Bryce and the lot of them can ship you off to my parents’ in Georgia if they’ve got no place else. You can go to high school there and help out with the horses if you want, even trade for room and board.”

Jim stared at him, eyes huge in his thin face. “Why would you do that? Why would you even offer that? You don’t know me.”

Leo shook his head slowly. “I know you,” he replied softly. “I know the important stuff. You’re a good kid, smart, brave, generous. You protected your friends best you could. I know enough.” He watched Jim take that in, struggle with it.

“You don’t have to believe me,” he continued. “That’s fine. And it’s just one offer, one option. But I want you to understand, there are options out there. Okay?”

Jim’s gaze flickered toward the closed door. “So if you don’t want me to tell you my name, why’d you shut us in?”

“Because I want you to talk to me. Really talk to me,” he urged. “You’ve gone through hell, taken on all this responsibility, when adults around you just let the worst happen. Let it go, Jim,” he whispered. “Let it out. It won’t change anything, but I can promise you’ll feel better, not holding it all in. Talk about it. Whatever you want to tell me, whatever you need to unload.”

He sat back again, just waiting while Jim seemed to digest his request. He played with the edge of the covers and stared wordlessly at Leo for a long moment before finally nodding his head ever so slightly.

“I, we--the kids, knew something was wrong for a while,” he began softly. “Or at least that something was going on. They started testing us in school, more than just regular class work. Aptitude tests, that kind of thing. And they sent the adults a questionnaire. Supposed to be part of a census for the colony, but they asked weird questions for a census. There was some normal stuff, like how many people were in the household and how old they were, who had jobs or was in school, but then they asked medical questions too, like what shots everyone had gotten and whether they’d had certain diseases.”

“They were asking colonists these things?”

Jim nodded. “I thought they sounded like things you’d ask someone before they moved here, not after.”

“Anything else strange?”

He shrugged. “That was it, at the beginning. But after the tests, they started separating us into different classes at school. Not by age or what we were studying but by how smart we were.”

“Profiling,” Leo murmured.

“Then the crops went bad,” Jim continued, exhaling harshly. “All at once.”

“Wait, what do you mean all at once?”

“Most of the kids at school lived on farms. The colony--there were shops and stuff, in the settlement, people who had all kinds of jobs, like anyplace--but most of the population was still made up of farmers, and most of the kids came from farming families. So one morning we all got to school and everybody was talking about the fungus that was destroying the crops. All on that same morning. It was like in one day, everybody’s farms were infected.”

“That doesn’t make sense. I’m no farmer, but a fungus would have to start somewhere, wouldn’t it? Then spread from one farm to another?”

Jim nodded. “Unless it was something that was already there, that got triggered by weather or whatever. Fungi grow. Spores travel on wind or equipment or by some kind of animal.” He clenched his hands over fists full of covers. “This fungus just... appeared.”

Leo was beginning to comprehend exactly what Jim was suggesting, but he didn’t want to keep asking questions and interrupting him, so he simply nodded his understanding.

“It was only a few days before the announcement came, that there would be a food shortage. They established martial law right away. Said it was for the colonists’ protection, to keep them from panicking. Kodos sent his police force through the whole colony, gathering food, cleaning out people’s kitchens. Then every family got a ration card and they were supposed to send one person into town to get their supplies for the week based on what the card said.”

“And this was all after the supposed census?”

Jim nodded.

“No one questioned the timing?”

“They talked about it, like over the dinner table, with neighbors and stuff. But the crops were dying and people were scared they’d run out of food, so they mostly just kept quiet,” he muttered, fingers clenching restlessly.

“I think they figured it would be fine if they cooperated, just until help came. Everyone was waiting for supply ships to show up. They thought it was temporary. Then Kodos blew up the main communications array for the settlement. Claimed it was someone protesting the rationing, but that was just a rumor he tried to float. After that, the only communications set up still live was in the governor’s mansion. He sabotaged the long-range transports, too. There was no way out, no way off the planet, and to get a message through you’d need to get past Kodos’s goons.”

Jim paused, staring blankly ahead as if visualizing something. Noting his dry, chapped lips, Leo leaned forward and passed him the water bottle from the bedside table. It took a minute for Jim to focus before reaching out to take the drink, a faint, crooked smile ghosting across his face. He gulped it down quickly, draining the entire bottle before handing it back to Leo. “Thanks,” he murmured.

“You’re welcome.”

The short break seemed to help him regain his focus. “We were still going to school every day, but one day the teachers were gone. Some guy we’d never seen before came into our class--”

“Your particular class?”

“Yeah, we were the advanced kids,” Jim said, eyes dropping. “They had us all together after the testing. Twenty of us. So this guy comes in, tells us we’re being pulled for a special program, due to our ‘impressive scholastic achievements and potential.’ Has us all leave our PADDs and stuff behind, says we’ll get new supplies. Tells us to follow him. So we all head out of the school building, just our class, and toward the governor’s mansion--the side where the government offices and stuff were. We go in, down this long corridor and down some stairs, and then there are guards with us, armed with phasers. They push us all into a big room, like a cell, with beds and a bathroom in the corner and not much else, and lock the door behind us.”

“They didn’t say anything? Why you were there?”

“No. Nothing.” He shifted slightly to one side, curling into himself. “We were down below ground level. There were these tiny windows running along one wall, way up by the ceiling. Only way to see out was to climb up on one of the beds and give each other boosts. There was a big empty yard, fenced in. After a long while, people started to arrive in groups. Just shuffling in, standing around, looking kinda lost. We could mostly just see their feet if they got too close, we were so low. They didn’t seem to be able to see us though. Windows must have been shielded.”

Leo swallowed hard. He knew enough of what had happened in the colony to have a pretty good idea what was coming next. Even if he hadn’t known of the basic events, he would have suspected something terrible, just from Jim’s bleak, deadened tone. But he had asked the kid to talk to him, encouraged him to open up. If Jim could speak about it--hell, if Jim could live through it--the least Leo could do was sit quietly and listen to every word.

Taking a shallow, shuddering breath, Jim pressed on. “We could hear the announcement over the loudspeakers. It would have been broadcasted throughout the whole settlement. Kodos telling everyone about their ‘great sacrifice.’ How in order for the best to live, the rest of them had to die.” He started trembling, faint tremors coursing from his shoulders down his arms and torso. “All those people,” he murmured. “All on some list Kodos made, because he decided they weren’t good enough,” he spat out, the words barely audible, his teeth beginning to chatter as if the temperature had plummeted. Leo reached out and grabbed his hand, feeling slender fingers clench painfully around his own.

“We could see all the other kids out there. The ones we’d left behind at school. Really little ones, too, who would have come from home with their parents. They had no idea what was going on, why they were there, until Kodos’s speech. And even then, they just stood there when the guards went out and started shooting. The yard lit up with phaser fire and bodies were dropping, and that’s when it finally dawned on them what was really happening, and they started screaming and shoving and trying to run.” He shook his head slowly, back and forth, eyes shut tightly against the memory.

Despite his resolution, Leo found himself unable to remain quiet. “Jim,” he murmured, “You can stop if you want, it’s all right.”

The head shaking grew more rapid and forceful, as if he were trying to expel the memories instead of just deny them. He swallowed, the action causing him to cough harshly until Leo helped him sit up, rubbing a palm over his back in a useless attempt to soothe and comfort. “Shh,” he whispered, fighting to hold back the tears pooling at the corners of his eyes. “Whatever you want. Whenever you’re ready.”

Jim swallowed again, then exhaled hard, clearing his throat. “I’m fine,” he insisted, voice strained. He leaned back again, pulling Leo’s hand, still clutched tightly, until it was pressed up against his chest.

“The guards left the bodies lying there for hours,” he continued without inflection. “Later they came back and loaded them onto the backs of hover-barges, the kind the farms used to bring their crops into the settlement for distribution and transport. We found out later they took them out to the forest and dumped them into mass graves. None of us knew for sure who was killed and who survived. Who was on that list. It was too crowded when they were all standing around in the yard, and after...” He took a deep breath, let it out. “Afterwards they were all just piled on top of each other. Did you know that dead bodies, when there’s a lot of them like that, they stop looking real?” he asked softly, his blue gaze meeting Leo’s for the first time since he’d started speaking.

Leo started at the question, was even more disturbed to realize that, despite all he had gone through and the difficulty he had recounting the events, Jim was utterly dry-eyed. “I... yeah, I suppose I know what you mean,” he said quietly, thinking of the cadavers they used in med school, and the way they objectified them. “What made them the person you know is gone.”

Jim nodded, his gaze skittering off again.

“Do you want to take a break, Jim?” Leo ventured.

But he didn’t answer, just went back to telling of the horrors he’d witnessed. It was as if now that he had started, the only way out again was to work his way through to the other side. Seemingly on auto-pilot, he spoke about the first night locked in the cell, no one responding to their demands for answers, most of the kids in shock, huddled on their cots, a couple of them crying themselves to sleep.

“Then in the morning they came and took the girls away,” Jim murmured. “When they came back a few hours later, none of them would tell us what happened, but they’d all been crying. They took us next, the boys, so we had a pretty good idea what the girls went through then.”

Leo swallowed hard, afraid to ask, but Jim soldiered on.

“They took a bunch of samples from us. Hair and skin, scrapings from inside our mouths.” He paused, shook his head slightly. “Other stuff.”

“DNA samples,” Leo said. “Sperm samples too?”

Jim nodded, fingers tightening around Leo’s hand. Then he exhaled hard, and Leo realized he was trembling.

“They did this with all of you?”

Another nod.

“Even the little kids? Liza and Kevin?”

Jim shook his head. “They weren’t with us,” he said. “Youngest was ten, oldest seventeen.”

Leonard took in this information, understood what that meant about the survival rate for that group of smart, special kids. He wanted to ask how they’d gotten free, how Jim came to be one of the kids who made it out, but he would suture his mouth closed before he rushed the kid or asked him to alter his story in any way.

“After that they started drugging us. Some days they’d feed us first and see if we could keep the food down after they shot us up with whatever. Other days it was on an empty stomach. They said it was for the good of humankind, that we should be proud of our contributions,” Jim murmured.

“Did you have any idea what they meant by that?”

“It was pretty obvious by then.”

Leo agreed, but he wanted Jim’s take, so he just waited for him to continue.

“They’d tested us to see who was smartest, so next they were going to see how tough we were. What our bodies could stand. Then he could take all that genetic material and create brand new versions of us. Ones that hadn’t already seen and heard too much.”

“Eugenics at its most extreme.”

“Those people he had killed in the yard--he’d already decided they weren’t good enough. I don’t know what he would have done with everyone else. Some got killed anyway. I know he sent guards out to check, make sure no one who had been on the list had somehow gotten away, not answered the summons to the mansion that day.”

“Is that what happened with Kevin and Liza? Their parents didn’t bring them with them?”

Jim nodded. “They lived near each other. Kevin’s older sister was watching them both because their parents thought they were too young to come to the meeting. She hid them in the root cellar when Kodos’s guards showed up to search the house. Kevin claims he doesn’t know what happened to her, but I’m pretty sure she’s dead.”

“How long did the drug treatments go on?” Leo asked, knowing there was much more to Jim’s story before he came across the younger children.

“Not sure. The days kind of blurred, you know? Sometimes I wasn’t sure I hadn’t blacked out for a day or two. I’d wake up suddenly and it’d be dark and one of the kids would be missing from their bed, and I wouldn’t remember them being taken away. But they started not coming back,” he choked out. “This one girl, Toula--she was my age, about--she just stopped breathing one night. There were these gasping sounds and then nothing. I tried to get someone to come, pounded on the door. I know they had to have some kind of surveillance on us, but they just left her there until morning. Then they carried her out, two guards, no stretcher or anything, like she was furniture.”

“Oh, kid,” Leo whispered, voice gentle, even though he was seething underneath his careful façade.

Jim shook himself, clearing trying to gather his resolve to continue. “By the time they brought Tommy back, there was just nine of us. I figured they were going to keep testing drugs on us until we were all dead, so we were better off trying to escape. Even if we didn’t make it and they shot us, at least it would be quick. We didn’t have anything to lose. I just needed to get one of the keys for the door. All the guards had them, so if I could get one as they were going off shift, they wouldn’t notice until they came back on duty.”

“But you said they had surveillance.”

“Yeah, but it seemed like they weren’t paying much attention at night. I thought it was worth the risk.”

Leo nodded, feeling his pulse speeding up. He had seen Jim’s tricorder readings, knew his body bore the signs of far worse treatment than he’d already described. Part of him truly did not want to know what happened, but he stayed silent.

“I waited for a detox day.”

“What was that?”

“Detox day. When they wanted to test something new, they’d flush the old drug out of our system and give us a day off between testing,” Jim replied. “I knew I could count on not feeling too sick or fuzzy headed that way. So, the next time they cleaned us out, I waited for the following evening, when the guards came with the doctor to check our status, and I pretended to be unresponsive. I knew nothing would show up when they scanned me, that they’d need more equipment to figure out what was wrong, and they never brought the equipment into the room with us.”

“So they’d take you somewhere else.”

“Yeah. I thought...” He shook his head and took a deep breath. “I figured they’d check me out and then bring me back, like with Tommy, just the one guard, and I’d have a chance to lift the key without anyone else there to notice.”

“That didn’t happen?”

“No. They could tell I was faking it. I guess my brain waves didn’t mesh with how I was acting, or whatever. I knew it was a long shot but it was all I could think of,” he murmured. “The doctor told me how disappointed he was in me, how they needed our ‘honest responses’ for their study. Like I was supposed to care about their research results.”

He was shaking again. Leo could feel the fine tremors through the hand Jim still held, so he flexed his fingers, giving him a quick squeeze of encouragement.

“He and two guards took me back to the room, and he told everyone that I’d been ‘uncooperative’ and that they were going to show them all what happened to children who didn’t do as they were told. Then he had the guards hold me down while he beat me in front of everyone.”

Jim’s voice was steady now, so matter-of-fact that Leo had to wonder what it would take to get some kind of reaction out of him. He sounded almost as if he thought the beating was earned. Leo was tempted to say something, but it was clear the kid had fallen back into his disconnected, story-telling mode, his eyes unfocussed, a small furrow marring his brow.

“I thought they’d leave me there, but they didn’t. The doctor had the guards drag me back out. I could hear the kids crying, panicking that they were taking me away again, but I wasn’t in great shape,” he said. “They sounded kind of far away. I think the doctor probably nailed me in the head a couple of times. I could just keep track of where we were going, down this hallway to another room. This one was small--like a walk-in closet--with just one cot, no windows, and the door was solid instead of having a window in it. They dumped me in there and left.”

“No one checked you out to see what kind of damage they’d done?”

Jim shrugged. “Don’t think they really cared. It was a while before anyone came back. I’d lost all sense of time by then, just knew I was thirsty and my head felt like it was going to fall off. A guard showed up with water but that was it. No drugs, but no food either. That happened a couple of times before I finally just asked if I could have something to eat, and he said maybe, if I did what he wanted.”

Leo watched as Jim ducked his head, making it impossible for him to see the kid’s expression or the look in his eyes. “Hey,” he whispered. “None of this is your fault. Don’t you be embarrassed for anything you had to do in there, you hear me?”

The blond head lifted almost imperceptibly, a small acknowledgement, but Jim still wouldn’t meet his eyes. “I told him I’d do anything he wanted, but he had to bring the food with him. He agreed, so the next time he came back he had a plate with some sort of food on it. He set it on the floor by the door, as far from the bed as possible, and then he came at me.” Jim shuddered. “He stripped me down. I just lay there and let him do what he wanted to me. It...went on for a while. And when he was done he collapsed on top of me, like he’d forgotten I was even there. He wasn’t asleep or anything, but he was pretty out of it, just lying there with his pants down around his ankles.” Jim swallowed hard. “So I wiggled out from under him, pretended I was going to get the plate off the floor, and grabbed his phaser instead.”

Leo waited quietly while Jim paused, obviously trying to recapture that detached place where he could recount what happened without breaking down. When he failed to resume his horrific story, Leo leaned in a little closer and gave his hand a shake to try and get his attention.

“You don’t have to tell me any more if you don’t want to, but I’m here when you’re ready, Jim. I’m not going anywhere, kid.”

Blue eyes peered through white-blond bangs, blinking rapidly. Then Jim sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I’m okay,” he murmured. “Let’s just get it over with.”

“Only if that’s what you want.”

Another nod. “So I... I got his phaser, and he tried to come after me, but he got all tangled in his pants and fell, so I... I shot him. I mean, it was set to stun, but I upped it to kill and I just... fired.” A shuddering breath. “He didn’t scream or call out or anything, but I didn’t know if anyone was guarding the door outside. I got dressed, and he was just there on the floor, dead. He looked kind of pathetic, half naked like that. It was... weird.” Jim gave himself a little shake. “I didn’t eat the food. Didn’t trust he hadn’t done something to it. Took his keys and unlocked the door, peeked out into the hall. No one was around, and the lights were dimmed, like at night, so I figured I’d lucked out and it was late. I found the other room without any problems and snuck in. Everyone was asleep.” He paused again, swallowing. “There were a couple more kids missing. I had to wake them up one by one, put a hand over their mouths so they wouldn’t call out. But I got them all up. No one was drugged, so I think maybe... maybe they were just getting ready to do something else to us. Test something different. I don’t know.”

He paused again, looking around. “Can I... is there more water?”

Leo started, brought abruptly back to reality. “Yeah, sure, just a second.” He carefully disengaged from where he and Jim had been clasping hands and rose to grab another water bottle. “Here you go. You want anything else? I don’t suppose you feel like eating something.”

Jim scrunched up his face and shook his head. “Maybe in a little while? After?”

Leo nodded, understanding that food and this particular conversation did not go together. He resumed his seat while Jim drank down a good third of the water, taking the bottle when he passed it back to him to set on the bedside table.

“Okay,” Jim said, reaching out toward Leo again, his expression shy. Leo just slipped his hand into the kid’s and squeezed in acknowledgement. Jim took a deep breath and dove back into his story.

“At that point, the other kids were doing a lot better than I was. I wasn’t moving so fast, and I didn’t want to hold them up, but I needed to get them outside while it was still dark, before the morning check in. We all snuck down the hall to the stairs where we’d come in that first day and got up to the main level that way. All the rooms were dark and it seemed pretty quiet, and I could see the entrance to the government offices, the area off limit to the public. So I gave the phaser to Jerry--he was maybe a year or two older than me--and told him to get everyone out and head toward the nearest farms, that I was going to try to get in to the communications console to send a message.”

Leo stifled a hiss of dismay. He’d seen this coming almost from the first, had suspected Jim was the smart, brave kid who got word out to Starfleet, but hearing the reality of how everything had played out gave him no sense of satisfaction for being right.

“They didn’t want to leave without me,” Jim continued, “but I said someone needed to do it, and that I’d try and catch up. Jerry got it, even if he wasn’t happy about it. He and Tal had to practically drag Tommy with them, because he didn’t understand, but even he knew enough to stay quiet.”

Jim’s eyes took on that faraway look again as he fell back into the story. “I crept down the hall toward the restricted side of the building, trying to stay low because I could see they had security cameras sweeping and I had no way of knowing what they were picking up.”

“Jesus, Jim!”

He shook his head and kept talking. “It didn’t matter. I figured no one out there knew what was going down in the colony, and if someone couldn’t get word out then we were all as good as dead. If I left with the others, I’d never be able to sneak back inside.” His voice had taken on a hint of the sheer stubborn determination that Leo knew must have kept him going through all of this.

“Okay, okay,” he soothed. “I get it. What happened?”

“They did have a guy in front of a bank of monitors, right when I first accessed the wing, but he was turned away from them, watching a vid or something on his PADD. I could see the yard out in front of the building though, on a couple of the screens. They had guards walking the perimeter but spaced pretty far apart. I guess they weren’t anticipating anyone trying to get in after they’d killed so many colonists already. So I watched until I saw Jerry and the others show up. I could tell he’d been watching the guards, too, waiting to figure out the timing when they could make a run for it. As soon as I’d seen them clear the fence, I dropped down and crawled past the monitor desk and into the next stretch of hallway. There were a couple of offices with their doors closed, just one that had light coming out from under the door. But I could see the comm. center down at the end of the hall, so I kept going.”

“Were there more cameras?”

“I didn’t really stop to look. I was going either way,” he said with a small shrug. “The lights were off but the equipment was plenty bright all by itself, with the indicator lights and screens and stuff. I found the main comm. panel and set it to transmit on the main Starfleet channels.”

Leo wondered briefly how Jim knew what the Starfleet channel codes were, but the kid kept talking and he refocused, not wanting to miss a word.

“I just typed out a brief distress call, really. I wanted to send more, but I figured better to get out a short message and then try to send a second one than to try and tell everything in one go and get caught before I could transmit. So I’d just started on the second comm. when I heard something going on back down the hall, like phaser fire. Then Jerry came running at me, alone--he’d doubled back after getting the kids out. I didn’t know there was someone behind him until they shot him--he dropped practically on top of me and I landed hard. It’s the only thing that kept me from getting taken out too, before I managed to grab the phaser out of Jerry’s hand and return fire.”

Leo nodded, not wanting to interrupt but feeling the need to acknowledge what Jim was telling him.

“After that I just ran for it. When I got to the bank of monitors I saw Jerry had phasered the guy there. I doubt he even realized the phaser wasn’t on stun. He must have thought he’d be coming after us any minute. But no one seemed to have heard anything because the entryway was empty. I crept outside and waited, watched the perimeter guards same as Jerry and the others had, and then I made for the fence as fast as I could. I was sure someone would see me, come after me, but I got out and there was no one. The kids must have been watching--they were huddled across the park behind a cluster of trees--because Tal came out to help me. They wanted me to rest, but the sky was starting to get light and I knew we needed to get the hell out of the settlement before sun up, so we kept going.”

“Where?” Leo asked softly.

“Wasn’t safe to stay at any of our own homes. They were all empty anyway.”

“You were sure everyone’s families had been on that list?”

Jim shrugged. “Pretty sure. Sure enough not to risk it. But four thousand people leave a lot of houses empty. We stayed in alleys and shadows until we got to the end of town and then made a run for the nearest farm. They were pretty much all deserted close in. We rummaged there and the next few places we came to, pulled together enough clothes and shoes for all of us.”

“You ran out of there barefoot?”

“Not like we had a choice. They had us in scrubs or those medical gowns.”

Leo’s gaze flicked to the small scrubs Jim was wearing. “Damn, kid, no wonder you’ve got no love for doctors.”

Jim just gave his hand a squeeze and pulled it back up to his chest again. “I didn’t want to stay in one of the empty farm houses. I figured Kodos would send his guards looking there straight off. But I didn’t know where we should go instead. That’s when we started looking for someplace with a cellar or attic space, something kind of hidden where we could take cover fast if we heard anyone coming.”

“And found Liza and Kevin,” Leo said.

“Yeah. Third place we checked. They had a little bit of food left, and the well worked, so we stayed there the first day, just to rest up. Then that night all of us took off and headed for the woods. Cut through to get up to the mountain range. I’d been camping up there a couple of times with… with the people I’d lived with, so I knew there were some caves where we could hide.”

“You didn’t try to approach anyone for help?”

Jim met his questioning gaze, his blue eyes holding so much anger that Leo nearly flinched backward. “People saw us, Doc. They saw us sneaking through town, saw us that morning passing their farms--all those people Kodos let live because they were ‘worthy,’” he spat out. “Not one of them did a fucking thing to help us. Oh, sure, they didn’t turn us in, but they didn’t help either.”

“What about the rebellion?”

Jim snorted. “What rebellion? You know when people started to fight back? After Kodos spotted the first ‘fleet ships coming into range, he locked his advisors in and blew up the computers, set the whole place on fire. Without him giving orders, the guards went rogue, started looting the food stores, and that’s what the colonists rebelled against. Not until then.”

“People react to fear in different ways,” Leo said, but his tone lacked conviction. Jim had every right to resent the colonists for failing to help him, when he himself had put so much on the line.

“Whatever. You know that’s bullshit.” Jim released his hand and curled into himself, steady gaze resting on Leo. “So is that what you wanted to hear?”

Leo sighed. “It wasn’t a question of wanting to hear it. You needed to talk about it.”

“Is this the part where you tell me how my story doesn’t fit in with what everyone else has been telling Starfleet?”

“No one else we’ve spoken with went through what you did, Jim,” Leo said gently. “That doesn’t make one of you more right than the other. Even if some of them saw you escaping, they had no way of knowing what happened to you and the others while you were being held.”

Jim blinked. “So, you believe me?” he asked tentatively.

Leo frowned. “Of course I believe you. Why wouldn’t I?”

Blue eyes dropped under a heavy fringe of lashes and Jim shrugged. “People don’t always believe me when I tell them things,” he murmured.

Leo shifted out of his chair and sat carefully on the edge of Jim’s bed, his sudden proximity causing Jim to jerk his head back up. “It’s okay,” Leo soothed. He reached out and cradled the back of Jim’s head with one hand, dropping the other to rest over one clenched fist, leaning in so their eyes were level, faces only inches apart. “Listen to me,” he said. “I believe every single thing you’ve told me, and I think you are an incredible person. What you went through? It was horrific. I can’t imagine how terrified you were through it all, or how you managed to keep it together the way you did. And I can see you feel bad about how some things happened, that you couldn’t save all the kids, that you were forced to do things you didn’t want to do. But Jim? You survived. You lived through it, and you made it out the other end, and that makes you an amazing kid in my book.”

Jim trembled within his grip, his eyes suddenly damp. “I can’t turn it off, you know?” he whispered, words barely audible. “In my head. I keep trying to figure out what I could have done differently.”

“None of this is on you. You did more than anyone could expect. Hell, kid, you brought in the damn cavalry.”

“It doesn’t help. All those people dead. Why not me? What makes me so different from them? And what makes me so different from Kodos?” He shuddered. “We’re both human beings, right? What would have to change in me to turn me into someone like that?”

Leo tightened his hold, bringing Jim closer so their foreheads touched. “The fact you even ask the question means it’s never gonna happen, kid, you got that?” Feeling dampness on his cheeks, he released Jim so he could brush at his face. Only then did he realize that the tears were Jim’s. “Hey, infinite diversity, right? That was true even before first contact. We’re each the sum of a lot of different factors, both nature and nurture.”

Leo offered Jim what remained of his bottle of water, and the kid took it with a nod of thanks. He finished it off in a few gulps and took a couple of shuddering breaths before he seemed less likely to break down.

“How do you feel?” Leo asked finally.

“I don’t know. Tired,” Jim admitted.

“That was a lot to get off your chest,” Leo agreed. “You want me to leave so you can rest?”

“No,” Jim replied instantly. “I mean, I’m tired of talking but you don’t need to go. Maybe you can tell me more about your family?”

Leo smiled. “Sure, I can do that. You settle down and get comfy.” He helped Jim shift lower on the bed, plumping up the pillows behind him. Then he slumped into his own chair and began to talk, rambling wherever his memories took him as he tried to focus on lighthearted moments--family gatherings featuring his grandmother’s peach pie, pranks he had pulled as a kid with his cousins. Within minutes, Jim had fallen asleep to the rhythm of Leo’s steady drawl.

~*~

Part Five

FIC: Not in Our Stars (Star Trek AOS, R) Part 3/5

2012-04-24T23:01:51Z

Title: Not in Our Stars
Author: Emluv emluv
Beta: Lindmere lindmere
Fandom/Spoilers: Star Trek AOS, borrowing from TOS
Characters: Leonard McCoy, Jim Kirk
Rating: R
Length: approx. 36,300 words complete
Warnings: Some swearing; minor violence; angst; mentions of physical, emotional, and sexual abuse in a captive situation as described by a character after the fact.
Disclaimer: Star Trek is owned by the Roddenberry estate, Paramount Pictures, and probably a few others who are not me. No profit made, no infringement intended.
Archive/Distribution: Please ask.
Date: April 19, 2012

Summary/Author’s Note: Written for a prompt on the buckleup_meme requesting a fic in which brilliant young medical student Leonard McCoy volunteers for a Doctors Without Borders-type organization and ends up helping with the rescue efforts on Tarsus IV, where he meets a teenage, traumatized Jim Kirk, who will, for whatever reason, allow only McCoy to treat him. I have played fast and loose with TOS information about Tarsus IV and its location, making it closer to Earth so that McCoy could feasibly make it there and back in one summer.

Title taken from Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar, Act I, scene ii: “The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, But in our selves...”

This fic is complete and will be posted in five parts at regular intervals. Additional notes follow the final part.

Back to Part One
~*~

Part Three

~*~

Jim was alone when Leo returned, curled on his side and staring off into space. He didn’t move when Leo slipped quietly into the room, simply started speaking as if they were picking up in the middle of a conversation.

“They haven’t found the others yet, have they?”

Leo’s eyebrows shot up. He hadn’t mentioned to the kid that there was a search underway for the other children he had been helping. Though he really shouldn’t be surprised that Jim had put the pieces together on his own. All signs pointed toward him being damn bright.

“Not yet, no. Which is a problem. You going to help us?”

“I just had to be sure it was safe here,” he murmured. “Before I said anything. They had enough supplies to last them a couple days.” He finally turned toward Leo, his eyes shadowed with guilt. “I wouldn’t have left them on their own otherwise.”

“Hey, kid,” Leo soothed, moving to stand next to the bed, “no one’s accusing you of anything. But the security detail was out there most of yesterday and all this morning and turned up nothing. There are plenty of other things they have to take care of, so if you can point them in the right direction, it’ll be real helpful all ‘round.” He sank down in the chair, sliding his PADD beneath it and propping his elbows on his knees.

Jim pursed his lips for a moment. “I’ll need to take them. No way I can just give directions,” he said, struggling to sit up.

“Oh, no you don’t,” Leo said hastily, grabbing for his shoulder and pressing him back down into the pillows. “You’re in no condition to go traipsing all over creation. It’s going to be days before I let you any farther than the bathroom.”

“But how, then? Do you want my help or not?”

“Not at the risk of your health, damn it.” Leo released him and sat back with a sigh. “Do you think you could make a map? If I gave you the one we’ve got of the settlement here, could you add to it?”

Jim frowned. “Yeah, maybe.”

Leo reached for his PADD again and brought up the right file. “Here,” he said, passing it over.

The kid took the device and frowned down at the rendering of the colony, the relief camp, and the surrounding area. Then thin, stiff fingers slipped the stylus out of its compartment and began tapping away at the screen, making broad strokes and scribbles, moving slowly but with confidence. He paused once or twice, his frown deepening before his brow finally smoothed out and he added a final flourish to his work.

“Does that look good enough?” he asked quietly, returning the PADD.

Leo turned it around and peered at the adapted map, eyes widening. “Yeah, Jim, I think will be real useful. Good job.” He shot the kid a smile, amused when he seemed to squirm at the praise. “I’m going to shoot this off to Lieutenant Bryce, okay?”

Jim nodded, scrunching down lower in the bed again as Leo appended the map to a quick comm. to Bryce.

When he was done, Leo returned the PADD to its spot beneath his chair and leaned forward again, watching Jim with a measure of concern. The kid seemed more subdued than he had been since his arrival, dark circles prominent beneath his eyes, brow heavy with whatever thoughts were obviously weighing him down. It was more than just the safety of the remainder of his group. Leo glanced up at the readings on the screen above the bio-bed, but while many of them remained dangerously skewed, there was a definite improvement, albeit minor, in the last twenty-four hours.

“Talk to me, Jim,” he urged softly. “What are you thinking about?”

“You were gone a long time today,” he replied matter-of-factly, without any hint of reproach.

“I had some things to do,” Leo said. “And then Dr. Puri wanted to speak with me.”

“About me?” Jim asked, blue gaze homing in on Leo.

“In part,” he admitted with a nod. “But also in general, about my schedule and what’s going on with the relief effort.”

“I don’t want a different doctor.”

A faint smile crossed Leo’s face. “I know, kid. Not that you have a doctor now. Med student, remember?”

Jim shrugged. “You feel like a doctor to me. A better kind of doctor.”

“Thanks. And no one’s giving you a different doctor. You’re stuck with me, at least for the next couple of days, assuming you keep doing as you’re told and take it easy.”

He paused, not really expecting an answer, then pushed on. “Starfleet is starting formal evacuation of the colony in three days. They’ve tracked down Kevin’s and Liza’s families back on Earth, so they’ll be heading out on the first transport home.”

Leo watched Jim’s expression freeze, his pulse escalating as reported by the soft beep from the bed’s sensors. He slid forward to the edge of his chair and laid a careful hand over the boy’s wrist, noting how his fingers clenched the bedding. “Jim?” he murmured. “Why does that have you so upset?”

“I’m not upset,” he insisted coldly, tugging his hand away from Leo’s light grip and rolling to his side.

“Bullshit, kid,” Leo muttered. “What were you expecting to happen? This colony is a disaster, one huge graveyard. You think there’s anyone who wants to stay behind, after everything that’s happened? Do you want to stay?” When nothing more than a whisper came from the figure on the bed, Leo half stood and leaned forward to hear. “What’s that?”

“I said I’ve got nowhere else to go!” Jim snapped back over his shoulder. He started at Leo’s proximity and jerked away, grunting when the movement caused the port to tug at his arm.

“Hey, come on now,” Leo urged, sliding him gently back toward the center of the bed. “I need you to stay calm.” He dropped back down into his seat, turning Jim’s angry words over in his head. “You’re saying you’ve got no one?” he asked slowly. “No family at all?”

Jim stared up at the ceiling, jaw clenched. “None that want me.”

Leo exhaled sharply. “Jim,” he began, “that can’t be--”

“Look, they sent me here to get rid of me, okay?” he bit out. “Kodos murdered the only people left who gave a shit about me.”

Leo was unsure exactly how to respond to that. On the one hand, he understood there were people out there who didn’t want their kids, didn’t feel what they should for their family members. And Jim was certainly old enough and smart enough to understand that as well. But Leo also remembered being thirteen, that certainty that he was so adult, that all of his perceptions were spot on, when the reality was that, no matter how advanced he was intellectually, he still had some catching up to do on the maturity scale. It was possible the kid didn’t have all the facts, whatever his situation, or that simply being in the midst of it was hindering his judgment.

But either way, looking at Jim’s tense frame, the anger and hurt vibrating off of him, he knew he had to say something.

“We’ll figure it out,” he told him. “We’ll find you a safe place before you get back to Earth.”

“Don’t need anyone’s pity,” came the tense reply. “Can take care of myself.”

“It’s not pity. And yeah, something tells me you’d make out just fine on your own if you had to, but that’s no reason to do it. Need to finish school. You’ve got your whole life to take care of yourself, Jim. Don’t rush it.”

“I’m really tired, now,” was the only response.

Leo let out a weary sigh, knowing whatever history Jim was battling, he wasn’t going to be able to change his outlook with a few platitudes.

“Okay, kid,” he murmured gently. “You get some sleep. I’ll check back in a little while.”

~*~

Someone had been assigned to cover Leo’s regular duties while he worked with Jim, so he was suddenly at loose ends. He grabbed a quick, tasteless meal at the mess, then made his way to the security tent for an update, only to learn that Bryce and his team had yet to return from their search for the rest of the children. Finding himself with neither the energy nor the inclination to make himself useful in some random task, he ultimately headed back to his bunk.

The resident tent was quiet, most everyone occupied elsewhere. There were a few people stretched out on their beds, napping or working silently, likely volunteers assigned to evening shifts. Leo tugged off his boots and lay down, but he was too keyed up to sleep despite having been up so much of the night, and after a few minutes of staring blankly at the swath of tenting above his head, he sat up and grabbed for his PADD.

Jim’s words weighed on him. The kid’s utter conviction that he had no one who’d want to take him in--Leo just couldn’t imagine being so alone in the world. His heart ached for the boy, and he found himself suffering a brief pang of homesickness for the first time since he had gone off to camp as a small child. He knew he was lucky; he had two parents who loved and supported him, plus a huge extended family that came running for the smallest reason. Feeling the need to show his gratitude, he fired up his mail program and shot off quick notes to both his mother and father, aware that he had not written home since shortly after his arrival on Tarsus. He couldn’t share much of what he had been doing, but the simple act of writing home made him feel connected in a way that he desperately needed at that moment.

He had just sent his correspondence off to the transmission queue when his comm. pinged with a message from Lieutenant Bryce, reporting he had successfully returned with the rest of Jim’s band of kids, five in total, all under the age of sixteen. The oldest boy had a fractured leg from a fall he took when he tried to escape his rescuers, but all were in good physical condition otherwise, equal to that of Kevin and Liza.

Leo couldn’t help but smile at the news, even as he felt a pang to realize just how much Jim must have sacrificed to keep his comrades fed. And what was that older boy doing while Jim was out risking his neck to scrounge food for eight people? He shook off his rising anger, knowing it was pointless. The kids had been located and were going to get off this hellish planet; he would focus on that.

A quick glance at the time told him Jim had been napping at least an hour, assuming he had actually slept and not been vying for privacy. Certain the kid would be glad to get some good news, Leo headed back toward the hospital.

He hadn’t gone more than a few yards when the alarm function on his comm. went off. Frowning, he tore the device from his belt, picking up his pace even as he scanned the red highlighted print out flashing across the screen.

“Goddamnit,” he bit out, breaking into a full run. He skidded through the hospital tent entrance and pounded toward Jim’s ward moments later, not bothering to dodge anyone in his path, simply hollering at them to clear the way.

“What the hell happened?” he demanded, tossing his comm. onto the closest empty surface and reaching for sterile gloves before he even reached Jim’s bedside. Dr. Puri, Doc Sheila and several nurses surrounded the bio-bed. Leo’s panicked glance darted from Jim’s bare chest to the invasive tube forcing air into his body to the frantic readings bouncing across the display above his head. An old fashioned crash cart was pushed against the far side of the bed, Sheila holding the paddles as the device whined through a charge.

“Clear!” she shouted, and Leo winced as everyone backed off the bed and Sheila brought the paddles down on the kid’s fragile chest, causing him to arch upward.

No one breathed, all eyes focused on the bed’s readout, the flat red line continuing across the screen. “One more,” Puri stated firmly, nodding as Sheila cranked the charge higher. Hands resumed their places around Jim, coaxing him to breathe, to live, until they were ready to try to jump start his heart again.

Unable to stand idly by, Leo looked about frantically for something to do, his gaze landing on a young nurse with a tear-stained face who was holding back from all the activity. “You,” he said, pointing at her, not caring when his harsh tone made her start. “What the hell happened here?”

“A...allergic reaction,” she stuttered. “I don’t know what went wrong. I read his chart, I know I gave him the adjusted hypo,” she insisted. “It’s the same blend he got yesterday, no problem,” she continued, practically shaking in her shoes.

Leo frowned. “Show me,” he said.

Nodding, apparently relieved to have her own useful task in the face of all the chaos, the nurse hurried over to the cart by the door and fetched a depleted hypo and a series of vials. “See?” she said, holding them out for Leo to examine.

Behind them, Sheila called for the emergency team to stand clear again, but Leo swallowed hard and focused on what the nurse was showing him. His frowned deepened as he fingered the medications. “This is right,” he muttered. “You’re sure you had the doses right?”

“Positive,” she said, her voice gaining strength with his brief affirmation. “I always double check, just like we’re taught.”

The sound of a faint beep caught Leo’s attention and he spun to see the weak pulse of the heart monitor above Jim. He exhaled slowly, moving to stand at the foot of the bed.

“Thank God,” murmured the nurse.

Leo glanced down at Jim’s frail form, frown more firmly etched on his face as he watched the doctors and nurses adjust his position, check his vitals, draw up the covers. His gaze drifted to the port in the kid’s arm, and up to the bag of saline supplying him with nutrients. “Nothing through the drip,” he said quickly, loud enough that both Puri and Sheila turned. Leo shook his head. “Not until he’s conscious. Hypo only.”

Puri and Sheila exchanged looks before Sheila turned back and met his eyes with a pointed glare. “McCoy, when we’re finished here.” Leo just nodded.

~*~

Puri and Sheila sat as Leo paced in front of them. “Who had access to that ward?” he asked. “The nurse had the right mix for the hypo. It was the same cocktail I put together for him myself. Even if she had the proportions off, it wouldn’t have caused his airway to close. Someone tampered with the hypo between the time she blended it and the point of administration.” The girl had been quick to admit that she’d been called into another ward on her way from the drug locker to Jim’s room, and had left the cart with all the medications in the hallway unattended for several moments.

Sheila shook her head. “The colonists are free to come and go, McCoy. This is a medical rescue operation, not a military containment area.”

“Maybe it should be,” Leo bit out. “Just because Kodos did his advisors in, doesn’t mean there aren’t sympathizers still floating around.”

“I fail to see what that would have to do with one young boy,” Sheila remarked.

Leo scraped his fingers through his hair. “Look, I can’t tell you anything definitive because Jim’s not exactly forthcoming. But I suspect he’s one of the few colonists alive who actually knows what Kodos looked like,” he admitted. “And not just him—his guard dogs, too. Advisors, military, the whole twisted bunch.”

“What makes you believe this, Mr. McCoy?” Dr. Puri asked calmly.

Leo dropped into his previously ignored chair. “He didn’t want the port at first. Freaked out, remember? Said we could use it to dose him with anything, not just to feed him. Implied Kodos or one of his men did as much to him already.”

“Why would a political leader drug a teenage boy?” Sheila asked, though the horror in her voice suggested the question was rhetorical.

Leo shook his head. “Why would he kill four thousand colonists rather than ask the Federation for help? My point is, if any of that monster’s goons are still on the loose, Jim isn’t safe. Maybe none of those kids are.” He rubbed his hands over his face. “It just didn’t occur to me that they’d need security on them. Never dreamed someone would just walk in and...”

“It is likely someone who is a patient or the family of a patient,” Puri stated. “Their presence would be less likely to be remarked upon.”

“I’ll alert security. I’m sure they’ll want to question Nurse Brenner and the rest of the staff on duty the past several hours,” Sheila said, rising. “McCoy, I can see you’re anxious to return to your patient. I’ll be by to check on him, but let me know immediately if his condition worsens.”

Already on his feet, Leo nodded and headed off down the hall to see Jim.

~*~

Leo sat for hours by Jim’s bedside, watching the steady, reassuring rise and fall of his chest. They were keeping him intubated as a precaution, but his heartbeat had strengthened and the rest of his stats had stabilized, at least to the point where they had been before the anaphylaxis.

But the longer Jim remained unconscious, the more restless Leo felt. He had known the kid was scared, that he had gone through more than the average colonist, that he had good reason not to trust the adults who claimed to want to help. Lack of detail should not have kept him from taking more precautions with Jim’s safety. He should have talked to Lieutenant Bryce the moment he suspected that Jim had interacted with Kodos himself. But he’d been so intent on proving his trustworthiness to the kid, to show him that there were people who wanted to help with no other agenda.

“God, kid, I’m so sorry,” he breathed. “I was such an idiot, and it almost got you killed.”

He must have dozed off, head propped against the edge of the bio-bed, because he came awake to the sounds of Jim’s growing distress. Rising abruptly, he leaned over into Jim’s field of vision.

“Okay, just relax.” Mindful of the port, he pulled the kid’s grasping hands away from his face, pinning his wrists with one hand, then rested his other palm gently on the top of Jim’s head, keeping him from jerking away. “I’ve got you. The tube was to help you breathe. I’ll take it out now, but you have to stay calm, all right? Jim, you hear me?”

Jim blinked rapidly, finally focusing on Leo’s face, his blue eyes bright with tears and panic. He couldn’t answer, of course, not with the tube still down his throat, but he ceased his frantic tossing and gradually relaxed into his pillow.

“That’s it,” Leo murmured, brushing the kid’s hair back. “Nice and easy. You’re okay.” He nodded encouragingly. “Now, this isn’t going to tickle, but I’ll be as gentle as I can, and then it’ll be out.”

Jim blinked again, then closed his eyes, clearly bracing himself.

“Okay,” Leo said, taking his own bracing breath, then set about removing the tube in a methodical manner, trying to be as quick as possible without risking further injury. Jim coughed violently as the tube came free, and Leo winced in sympathy, knowing how sore his throat would be for the foreseeable future. “All done,” he soothed. “I’ll get you some water, hang on.”

Leo helped Jim stay upright long enough to swallow down the cool liquid, then propped him back on some pillows. “How do you feel?” he asked cautiously.

Jim shrugged, leaning back, obviously drained. “What happened?” he rasped out, then swallowed with a grimace.

“Don’t talk if it hurts too much,” Leo said. He sat down with a sigh. “You had an allergic reaction to your hypo. Someone got in and switched your mix from the blend I made up to the standard one.” He watched Jim’s eyes widen in comprehension. “You have any idea who might want to do that?” Leo asked quietly, and watched as the kid’s gaze skittered away.

“Okay,” he said. “Here’s the deal. Bryce has got security posted in the hall here and over in the infirmary for Liza, Kevin, and your other friends. He brought them all back this afternoon, said your map was excellent.” Jim continued to look away, fingers picking nervously at the covers. “I’m not going to push you to talk to me right now because you’ve just been through a hell of an ordeal. Another one,” he added half under his breath. “You need to rest. Your throat is going to feel like ground glass unless I medicate it, but I didn’t want to pump you up with pain killers without talking to you first.”

That got Jim’s attention. He glanced toward Leo, then down to the port in his hand.

“Right. It’s a mild treatment, but it needs to be administered in doses every hour, so by hypo will just keep you up all night. A drip would be better, but it’s your call.”

“It’s just for my throat?” Jim whispered harshly.

“And for the bruised feeling you’re probably dealing with,” Leo said, eyebrow raised questioningly. Jim nodded. “You should be able to talk without pain by morning.”

“Okay,” Jim agreed, letting his eyes flutter closed.

Leo rose and fetched the pain killer from the cart, verifying the contents before he set about adding it to Jim’s drip. “We’ll talk more tomorrow,” he told him, as he checked the flow and adjusted the covers. He could tell the kid was still awake, despite his carefully limp pose. “I’ll give you a more complete rundown of what happened to you here tonight,” he promised. He didn’t say anything about demanding answers from Jim. The kid wasn’t stupid.

~*~

It was a long evening, during which Leo pretty much just sat and watched the kid sleep. He couldn’t bring himself to leave Jim’s bedside. He wanted to be there if he woke up, knowing he was bound to have questions once he was more alert and the painkillers had some time to work on him.

Sheila returned as promised to check Jim’s vitals and make notes on his chart. When she was finished, she turned assessing eyes on Leo and promptly shooed him out of the ward, ordering him to get something to eat. She took up his post without a moment’s consideration, sliding into his seat and pulling a PADD from the pocket of her lab coat, obviously having come prepared to do just that.

Even knowing the kid wasn’t alone, Leo rushed through his meal, then hurried back to his bunk to pick up a few things--his own PADD, plus a spare he’d brought from home that was loaded with some books and a few games, thinking maybe Jim might like it. With this latest setback, he was bound to get bored and restless long before he was sufficiently recovered to get out of bed. Leo figured a diversion would be welcome.

Sheila frowned when he got back to the ward after a mere half hour’s absence, but she relinquished the bedside chair quickly enough and left without a word. Leo resumed his seat, eyes pinned to Jim’s gaunt face, PADDs forgotten on his lap.

“McCoy.”

Leo started at the sound of his name, jerking from his slouch to find Lieutenant Bryce watching him from the door. Clearly he’d dosed off. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and placed the PADDs on the floor, then rose when Bryce nodded toward the hallway and followed him out.

“Sorry to wake you,” Bryce said. “I just wanted to check in, give you an update before I go off shift.”

Leo glanced down at his chrono and raised an eyebrow at the man. His “shift” seemed to have been going on something like fourteen hours. “Sure,” he said.

“We spoke to the nurses on this ward and to a few of the more ambulatory patients. No one saw anything suspicious, but then we couldn’t give them much to go on. The kid see anything?”

“I doubt it,” Leo sighed. “He was pretty disoriented when he woke up earlier, didn’t have any idea what had happened. But he may be more coherent later on. Probably best to try and talk to him in the morning, assuming he’s awake and feeling up to it. I’ve got him on a mild pain reliever, but it shouldn’t affect his memory, assuming there’s anything for him to remember.”

Bryce nodded. “Okay.” He glanced into the room where Jim was beginning to toss restlessly. “You know, I’ve got people posted here. You don’t have to sit with him all night.”

“Yeah, I do,” Leo said.

Bryce shifted his gaze to Leo. “Your call. I’ll be by first thing.”

~*~

Leo dozed fitfully all night, waking every time Jim stirred, but the kid was down for the count despite his troubled sleep and was still out cold when Bryce turned up just after 0800 local time, bearing a mug of steaming coffee that he handed over with a knowing smirk.

“You’re a man after my own heart,” Leo sighed, snatching at the hot drink and inhaling deeply. He look a long sip, then indicated that they should move outside, not wanting to disturb Jim.

“So,” he said, when they were hovering in the doorway for the second time in less than twelve hours. “I’m guessing nothing’s changed since last night.”

“We’re at a dead end,” Bryce agreed. “Unless Jim can point us toward someone specific, we have nothing.”

“I’m not going to wake him up just to talk to you, Bryce.”

“I get that. But look, McCoy, we can keep him reasonably safe here, but the reality is, if he has any sort of knowledge like you’ve suggested, if he can really finger someone who worked with Kodos, it’s just a matter of time before they get to him. There are too many people coming and going, and any colonist could be considered suspect. The sooner we get him off Tarsus, the better for all concerned.”

Leo sighed. “But you need to know who he is, and where to send him.”

“Got it in one. The original colony manifest listed no children named James or Jim--assuming that’s his real name--but plenty of colonists came on later transports, and those records are, well, incomplete is putting it mildly. We can do a DNA scan, see if he’s in the system, but without the permission of a parent or guardian, we open ourselves up to all sorts of backlash. I’ll get the order if it comes down to it, but--”

“No. No, I get it,” Leo said. He hated the idea of taking all control from Jim that way. “Let me talk to him. I already told Puri I would do it. This all just steps things up.”

“I’d offer to help, but I suspect you’ll get further without my presence.” He patted Leo on the arm. “Take it easy, McCoy. Keep me updated.”

Leo nodded. “Thanks for this,” he said, indicating the coffee.

“I’ve seen you mainlining it, walking around mornings,” Bryce said with a wink, and was gone.

Leo stood staring after him a moment. Mornings. Like when he was out in the settlement, sneaking food to the kids. “Son of a bitch,” he muttered, before heading back in to Jim.

One look at the displays above Jim’s head and he knew the kid was playing possum. He suppressed a sigh of relief and sat down, setting his coffee on the bedside table, then leaning forward with his elbows braced on his knees. “Did you hear all that?” he asked quietly.

Jim twitched, then turned to face Leo, eyes opening slowly. “Most of it.”

Leo nodded. “Look, Jim, we’ve got to get you out of here. Whether it’s back to your family or somewhere else, I don’t know, but it’s just not safe for you on Tarsus. Yesterday proved that. Your heart stopped. You could have died.”

Jim inhaled slowly and let the breath back out, his serious gaze resting on Leo’s face. “I could have died a bunch of times way before yesterday. You know who’s kept me alive? Me.”

“How do you see this all playing out, if you don’t give us your name or tell us who to contact on your behalf?” Leo prodded. “You can’t stay here alone, and there’s no way Starfleet is going to just drop you off at the nearest star base. You’re a smart, capable kid, Jim, I’m not saying you aren’t, but you’re underage.”

“I can take care of myself.” There was a steely determination to his tone that made Leo wonder who he was trying to convince. Thin and exhausted, further worn from the previous day’s ordeal, Jim looked younger than ever.

“What if I could find you a safe place to go?”

“I’m not some charity case, Doc. And I’m not a stray puppy, all right?” Jim bit out. He rolled stiffly to his side, facing away from Leo.

“Goddamnit, kid, I’m not saying you’re either of those things. But you’ve been through hell, and now people are trying to kill you on my watch, and I’m fucking pissed off, okay?” he demanded, jerking to his feet and sending his chair skidding across the floor. “You being a martyr or a smartass by turn isn’t going to change that.”

Jim peered back at him over his shoulder, a stunned expression on his usually impassive face.

Leo swallowed hard, the anger still bubbling up through his chest. “Sorry,” he managed, aware he sounded anything but.

Jim let out a small chuckle and struggled to shift up the bed.

“Hey, wait a minute, let me give you a hand,” Leo said, moving forward to help him sit up. “There, that’s better,” he said, propping up the pillows to support Jim’s head. “I’m serious about yesterday. Your body can’t take that kind of strain.”

“I know,” Jim exhaled softly. “I get it. Sorry I scared you,” he added in a small voice.

“You’re... Jim, it wasn’t your fault. It’s mine, for not making sure you had security on you from the moment they brought you in here.” Leo scraped a hand over his head, rucking up his hair. “God, I...” He trailed off with a shake of his head, leaning over to set his chair to rights and then sitting down heavily. He stared down at his hands for a long minute before glancing up to find Jim watching him silently, seriously.

Needing a break in the tension, Leo grabbed his PADD and pulled up the latest reports on the children rescued the previous day. “You want to hear about the rest of your friends?” he asked.

Jim nodded.

Wondering if they were back to their earlier, non-verbal state of communication, Leo just stared down at the screen, scrolling through the data. “Bryce brought back five kids, three boys and two girls. They’re all over in the infirmary with Liza and Kevin, except for the oldest boy--Tommy?”

Jim nodded again.

“He’s in here, down the ward.”

“How come?” Jim asked, looking worried. He obviously remembered what Leo had said about why he himself was in the hospital instead of the infirmary.

“He wasn’t as willing to go along with Bryce as the others. Tried to run and slipped on a rocky slope leading up to that cave you were all hiding in. Banged up his leg. He’s in traction until they finish regenerating his femur, then he’ll be good as new,” Leo said, scanning the data, a frown tugging at his lips.

“I should go talk to him,” Jim said. “He’s probably really scared.”

Leo glanced up. “Says here he’s nonresponsive. Won’t answer any questions, just lies there shaking his head whenever anyone asks him anything.”

Jim was looking toward the doorway.

“No,” Leo said firmly. “You’re not budging from that bed. Talk to me, kid. What’s up with Tommy?”

“They gave us all different stuff,” Jim said vaguely. “Didn’t say what it was, what it was supposed to do, what they were hoping for. Just drugged us and left us there. Whatever happened... happened,” he continued faintly.

Leo could barely breathe. “And what happened to Tommy?”

“He started having convulsions after one of the treatments. Eyes rolled back in his head and it was like his bones were trying to shake out of his body. Then he passed out. They came and took him away. When they brought him back a couple of days later he was like that. It had messed with his brain. He wasn’t smart anymore. Sounded like one of the little kids.”

“Jesus. Did anyone else suffer permanent side effects from the drugs?”

Jim picked restlessly at the covers, but his focus remained on the doorway. “Dunno. Everyone had something wrong with them, but we weren’t eating enough so maybe that was why.”

Leo couldn’t make any amendments to Tommy’s records remotely, but he tapped out a quick summary of what Jim had told him and shot it off to both Puri and Sheila, with a copy to Bryce for good measure.

“I still can’t let you go visiting,” he said. “Not until you’re stronger. But I’ll make sure Tommy knows you’re here and fine and that he can come see you as soon as he’s mobile, okay?”

“The other kids, too?”

“Of course. Not all at once, but there’s no reason why they can’t come a couple at a time.”

“Thanks, Doc.”

“Now, let’s get back to you,” Leo said, watching Jim stiffen in response. Not pausing to allow him to protest, he barreled on, giving him a step-by-step accounting of what had happened the previous afternoon leading up to his anaphylactic episode, and the medical measures that were taken as a result.

“Due to your reaction and your compromised immune system, Dr. Puri was unprepared to introduce any more medication into the mix,” he explained. “That’s why he was forced to use more primitive methods of resuscitation and to get your heart pumping again. That drip I have you on should have helped with most of the soreness, both your throat and your chest, but you’re still going to be pretty stiff and bruised for a few days.”

“Great,” Jim mumbled.

“The good news, however, is that despite the trauma, you’ve stabilized fairly quickly, which means you’re a pretty resilient kid,” Leo said gently. “We’re going to start you back on solid foods at lunch, see how that goes. Just some simple broth and such at first, but if that goes well you should be managing small meals within a few days. You’ll progress much faster once you can start picking up some weight.”

Jim’s eyes skittered to his port.

“Yeah, well, you’ll need to keep that for a bit longer as a backup,” Leo said, anticipating his next question. “Your stomach’s shrunk, so it’ll be a while before you can eat enough solid food to meet your intake requirements.”

Leo’s comm. beeped and he let out a sigh. “Sorry, hold on.” He glanced at the screen, brow furrowing. It was a text from Dr. Puri, requesting he meet him to consult further regarding Tommy’s condition. He glanced back up at Jim. “I have to go for a few minutes, but I’ll be back, okay?”

“Is something wrong?” Jim asked. “Did something happen to one of the others?”

“No, nothing like that,” Leo soothed, tucking his comm. back onto his belt as he stood. “Dr. Puri just has some questions for me. I’ll check on everybody’s progress while I’m gone and let you know when they can visit.” He fumbled with his PADDs, remembering the extra one. “Here, I brought this for you,” he said, setting the spare on the bedside table within Jim’s reach. “It’s got some stuff to read, a few games. Not sure how great they are, but I figured you must be bored and it’s better than nothing. Sorry I didn’t think about it before.”

Jim’s gaze settled on the PADD, eyes widening. “Thanks, Doc,” he murmured, reaching for the device.

“No problem, kid. You rest up and I’ll be back soon.” He smiled, seeing Jim already absorbed in the PADD, hearing his slender fingers tapping on the screen even as he left.

~*~

In the end, Dr. Puri kept Leo for nearly two hours, not only discussing Tommy’s condition and prognosis based on their limited information, but insisting that he accompany him to the infirmary as well, where he met each of the children Jim had been protecting. They all seemed far too quiet and subdued, marked by their experiences, but clearly relieved to have been rescued; whatever his own beliefs on the matter, Jim had apparently kept hope alive for his friends by telling them that Starfleet would send someone to help them. As a result, they were grateful to be somewhere safe, where there was plenty of food to go around. All older than Liza and Kevin, they seemed to share a deeper awareness of their circumstances and a lingering sadness that Leo suspected would become even more pronounced once they left the planet and had time to come to terms with all they had suffered and lost. No doubt they would undergo psych evals before that happened—standard procedure at this point for all colonists. Still, at the moment their only real concerns were regarding Jim, and Leo was happy to be able to reassure them and promise they would see him a bit later.

“You have a way with children, McCoy,” Puri told him, as they headed back toward the hospital. “Have you decided on a specialty yet?”

“I’ve only finished the one year of med school,” Leo admitted. “But I was planning on surgical.”

“You might consider pediatrics.”

Leo felt his eyebrows climbing into his hairline. “It’s not something I’ve thought about, really.”

“Children can be difficult patients. They are not as adept as adults when it comes to communicating their problems. It takes a very particular personality to draw them out, to gain their trust, even in circumstances far less traumatic than these. These children show a great deal of faith in you in a very short amount of time. You have a gift.”

“I don’t know about that,” Leo replied. “I think it’s just because I’m willing to be honest with them.”

“It is not just your honesty but your compassion,” Puri remarked. “I realize you have years of schooling before you must make a decision. I merely suggest that you keep the option in mind.”

The doctor’s words bounced around Leo’s mind as they separated at the first hospital ward and he continued down the hall toward Jim’s room. It had never occurred to him to do anything other than follow in his father’s footsteps and go into surgery. Oh, maybe he’d end up focusing on a different area within that field--he was fascinated by neurology, in part due to his additional studies in psychology and how the physical and the mental components of the brain worked together--but to go in a completely different direction? He thought about working with Jim these past couple of days, and how he had felt when he originally spotted Liza out in the settlement. It had been frustrating, but also rewarding. And yet, when he thought of the suffering the kids had endured, he wasn’t certain he could face that on a daily basis, whatever the cause.

Leo found Jim lying stiffly in his bio-bed, Doc Sheila reviewing his charts. “Hey, Doc,” he said, entering the room, eyes focused on Jim. The kid relaxed noticeably the moment he realized Leo was back.

“Your patient’s making excellent progress, given the stress his body went through yesterday,” Sheila said, handing him the PADD and turning back toward Jim. “I’m glad you’re feeling better, young man,” she said with a gentle smile.

Jim nodded, his expression reserved.

Sheila patted the end of the bed, carefully avoiding coming into contact with Jim himself. “I’ll leave you two to talk.” With a nod to Leo, she turned and left.

Leo glanced at the chart, but it was cursory. He already knew Jim was improving, could tell by the restored color in his cheeks and the steady readouts over the bed, and Sheila would have said if there were any red flags. He returned the PADD to its place and sank back down in the chair by the bed.

“How you feeling?” he asked.

“Not so bad. My throat feels normal. Chest still hurts though.”

“That’s not surprising,” Leo said. “Should be okay by tomorrow or the next day.”

“Did you see Tommy?”

“I did. He’s going to be fine. His leg’s nearly healed up, and I told him you were looking forward to seeing him, okay? He seemed much more calm once he understood you were here. The other kids, too.”

Leo watched as just a bit more tension leeched out of Jim’s taut frame. He wanted to press him for additional information, to ask how he and the other kids had managed to survive, but he knew Jim was still likely to close up and become defensive again.

Glancing around, he noticed the PADD he’d left with Jim. He gave it a nod. “Find anything good on that thing?” he asked.

Jim followed his gaze, lips curving upward ever so slightly. “Yeah. You’ve got some great old books.”

“What were you reading?”

Jim reached out, fingers closing over the PADD. He drew it into his lap and ran his palm down the side of it. “The Time Machine,” he told him. “I’ve read it before but...”

“A favorite, huh?”

“I’ve got a paper version that my grandpa gave me, used to be my dad’s.”

Leo froze, acutely aware that this was the first time Jim had volunteered any information about his family, at least anything that sounded like a good memory. “Got any other paper books?” he asked.

Jim nodded, still focused on the PADD. He’d powered it up and was tapping lightly on its surface.

“Like what?”

“Lots of Jules Verne. Robert Louis Stevenson. Ray Bradbury.”

“Good stuff. Adventure stories,” Leo murmured. “My grandfather used to read to me when I was little. There was a big old porch around my grandparents’ house, and we’d sit on the porch swing on holidays while the big kids were off riding horses, and my grandma and my mama and my aunts were busy cooking up a storm, and he’d read me old children’s stories, do all the voices.”

Jim glanced up. “Sounds like you miss him.”

“I do,” Leo said. “He passed a few years ago. Was my favorite grandparent,” he added in a confidential tone, “even if he was responsible for giving me my middle name.”

Jim’s eyebrows rose. “What’s that?”

Leo hesitated, then shrugged. “Horatio,” he admitted.

Jim opened his mouth as if to comment, but then seemed to think better of whatever he was going to say and merely smirked. “Could be worse,” he said finally.

Leo watched him carefully. “I suppose it could,” he agreed.

The kid’s gaze dropped back to the PADD in his hands. With deliberate movements he powered it down, then set it back on the bedside table. Then he looked expectantly at Leo.

Leo returned Jim’s steady gaze. “I’m glad there was something you liked on there,” he said after a long moment. He glanced at his chrono. “Now, I think it’s time for some lunch.” And with a smile at Jim’s confused expression, he rose and went in search of the broth he’d ordered for him earlier.

~*~

Part Four

FIC: Not in Our Stars (Star Trek AOS, R) Part 2/5

2012-04-22T13:56:09Z

Title: Not in Our Stars
Author: Emluv emluv
Beta: Lindmere lindmere
Fandom/Spoilers: Star Trek AOS, borrowing from TOS
Characters: Leonard McCoy, Jim Kirk
Rating: R
Length: approx. 36,300 words complete
Warnings: Some swearing; minor violence; angst; mentions of physical, emotional, and sexual abuse in a captive situation as described by a character after the fact.
Disclaimer: Star Trek is owned by the Roddenberry estate, Paramount Pictures, and probably a few others who are not me. No profit made, no infringement intended.
Archive/Distribution: Please ask.
Date: April 19, 2012

Summary/Author’s Note: Written for a prompt on the buckleup_meme requesting a fic in which brilliant young medical student Leonard McCoy volunteers for a Doctors Without Borders-type organization and ends up helping with the rescue efforts on Tarsus IV, where he meets a teenage, traumatized Jim Kirk, who will, for whatever reason, allow only McCoy to treat him. I have played fast and loose with TOS information about Tarsus IV and its location, making it closer to Earth so that McCoy could feasibly make it there and back in one summer.

Title taken from Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar, Act I, scene ii: “The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, But in our selves...”

This fic is complete and will be posted in five parts at regular intervals. Additional notes follow the final part.

Back to Part One

~*~

Part Two

~*~

Sheila was waiting for Leo when he emerged from the examination area. A quick glance around revealed a depletion of the security team, with only Bryce and one ensign remaining. Rafe and the two little kids were also gone.

Noting his rapid assessment, Sheila nodded at him to sit. “Wilkinson is finding quarters for Liza and Kevin in the infirmary,” she said.

“How are they?” Leo asked, taking the chair she’d indicated as Bryce moved in to join the conversation.

“Actually, they were in remarkable condition. Malnourished, of course, and dehydrated, but beyond that there wasn’t any major physical damage. Some good food and proper rest and they’ll be fine,” Sheila replied.

“Physically,” Leo reiterated, having honed in on her phrasing.

Sheila shrugged. “They seemed more worried about what was happening with their friend Jim than with anything they’ve suffered here on the planet, at least for the moment.”

“They’re little, and that’s the most immediate threat in their eyes. Jim’s been watching out for them, scavenging for food. Not just them either,” he said with a sigh, glancing up at Bryce. “There’s more kids out there. He didn’t say where or how many, but it was clear he was protecting a group of them.”

Bryce nodded. “We assumed as much. There’s patrols out in the area where we picked up these three. We’ll find them, don’t worry, McCoy.”

“What were Jim’s readings?” Sheila asked.

“Pretty much the worst I’ve seen.” Leo scrubbed his hands restlessly through his hair. “Honestly, I don’t know what’s keeping that kid going. He’s clearly been subsisting on next to no food, possibly ingesting non-edible plant life just to stave off the worst of the hunger. Says he’s got allergies, which no doubt limited his ability to forage for himself, but I think he was mostly giving whatever he could get his hands on to the others. Plus there’s recent abuse. I’m just going off the tricorder, but I’d say someone beat him within the last month.” He wouldn’t mention the rest of it, not with Bryce present. Even without his M.D., he believed in maintaining his patient’s privacy. Any doctor who treated Jim would find the information in his chart.

“He tell you anything useful?” Bryce questioned.

“Not much interested in talking. I got some water into him and he volunteered his name just now before I came out. Slipped about there being more kids but clammed right up when I tried to get details. I’ve got him listing off his allergies for me so at least we can steer clear of making things worse. He’s worried about Liza and Kevin--wants to see them.”

Sheila stood. “We’d better get him settled in as well. He can see them, of course, but our first priority has to be starting treatment.”

“I was going to order him some broth just to get something in him, see if he keeps it down,” Leo told her, rising as well. “I want to avoid anything invasive if we can, at least until he’s calmer. He’s skittish as anything and that’s just added stress on his heart given the circumstances.”

“It’s likely a risk either way. He won’t be able to absorb nutrients fast enough if he has to rely on oral delivery,” Sheila pointed out.

Leo grimaced. “I know. I’ll explain it to him, so he understands what might be coming.”

Sheila patted Leo on the shoulder. “You have a good way with him, McCoy,” she said gently. “But you have to remember that your job is to keep him alive. We have other people to help him through the trauma. I doubt anything you do could compare to what he’s already experienced. I’ll see about that broth.” She nodded to Bryce, then left.

Bryce watched Leo for a long moment. “So those two were definitely the ones you had your run in with?” he asked finally.

Leo nodded. “Liza and Jim.”

“You seem pretty chummy with a kid who tried to knock your head off.”

Leo glanced into the lieutenant’s amused gaze. “Your point being?”

“You sure you haven’t seen them since?”

“I’m sure.” He paused, exhaled. “But... I was taking food out and leaving it. ‘Round where I saw them that one time. Just wanted them to understand we were here to help.”

Bryce eyed him. “I thought doctors were supposed to keep themselves detached.”

“Not a doctor yet,” Leo snapped. “And I thought we were here to help these folks get home whole and healthy.”

“As much as that’s possible,” Bryce agreed, wandering toward the exit. He nodded toward the ensign. “I’ll send back a detail to help you get the boy moved.”

~*~

Moving Jim to the hospital ward was an ordeal. While he seemed to trust Leo on some level, that was as far as he was willing to bend, and he went on the defensive as soon as Bryce’s security detail appeared, clearly ready to bolt at the slightest provocation. Ultimately, Leo walked along with them as they transported him on the porto-bed, keeping up a steady stream of light banter that did little to keep Jim calm, but at least kept him from making a run for it.

The entrance to the hospital was a small white tent that abutted the larger, more formal structure IAR had constructed when it became clear they would need a better-equipped facility. As soon as they reached the entrance, and the more populated area, Jim began agitating to be allowed up.

“Come on, kid,” Leo cajoled. “Just hang in until we get to your bed. Relax and enjoy the ride.”

“I can walk,” he protested, gaze darting around, his expression showing his clear discomfort with his vulnerable position.

The look tugged at Leo’s heartstrings. “We’re almost there.”

Exhaustion getting the better of him, Jim finally collapsed flat on the porto-bed and closed his eyes. “Where are Liza and Kevin?” he asked quietly.

“My friend Rafe took them over to the infirmary to find them some beds. I’ll track them down and bring them for a visit as soon as we get you settled in, okay?”

Jim’s eyes snapped back open. “Wait, why can’t we be together?” He began struggling to sit upright again, his movements knocking the porto-bed off balance.

“Hey, keep still there,” Leo admonished, reaching out in case the security officers lost their grip. “Remember we talked about how Liza and Kevin were in much better condition than you? Well, that’s the reason. You need more medical help, which means this building. Now lie back, damn it,” he grumbled, relaxing only when Jim was supine. “It’ll be okay,” he added. “You can see them every day, and as soon as you’ve made some progress, I’m sure it’ll be no problem to move you over to the infirmary, too.”

Finally they had Jim settled in a small room where the second bed was unoccupied and the air tasted clean and overly processed. Leo helped him shift from the porto-bed to the more permanent bio-bed and, once the security detail departed, assisted him with getting cleaned up and changed from his torn, soiled clothes into a small pair of medical scrubs. They still hung off his emaciated frame, but at least they were clean and in one piece.

Leo had struggled to keep his composure at the sight of Jim’s ravaged body, painfully thin, joints swollen, with half-healed scars laddering his back and bruises and contusions over the rest of him. Seeing him comfortably ensconced in the bed, fluffy pillows propping him up beneath the soft covers, did little to erase the image from his mind. Realizing that Jim was watching him, he shook off his dark thoughts.

“Okay. Lunch next, and then I’ll go find your little buddies.”

Jim looked dubious. “Just broth, right?”

“To start.” Leo dropped down in the chair beside the bed. “Look, Jim. You need to build your strength back up, and it’s pretty obvious you’ve barely eaten in quite a while.” He leveled him a stern look. “I know food probably sounds like an impossibility right now, but we’re going to start you slow and see how it goes. One way or another, you need nourishment. And if eating proves too difficult, we’re going to need to try something else.”

Jim’s eyes widened. “Like what?”

“Old fashioned intravenous drip, most likely,” Leo admitted. “There’s more technical ways, but we just don’t have sufficient facilities here right now. You’re running on empty, kid, and your body can’t handle much more, understand?”

Jim nodded slowly.

A nurse arrived in the next moment, tray in hand, saving Leo the trouble of going in search of Jim’s meal. Her nametag read ‘Nurse Hitchings.’ She nodded at each of them, balancing the tray carefully while she pressed the control at the edge of Jim’s bed that would extend the table. “Doc Sheila said you asked for this,” she told Leo. “Plain broth with the basic supplements.”

Jim’s face scrunched up. “What are the basic supplements?” he asked, voice tinged with suspicion.

“Protein enhancements, ten multivitamin units, calcium and potassium,” the nurse repeated before Leo could answer.

“Thanks,” Leo said.

“No problem. I’ll be back later to check on you,” she said with a smile toward Jim before she left.

Leo held the bowl of broth steady while Jim eased himself higher on the bio-bed, then adjusted the mattress at a supportive angle. “Okay, see how that sits.”

Jim lifted the spoon and eyed the contents of the bowl, a golden liquid that steamed ever so slightly and gave off a warm, comforting scent. He took a small spoonful and sipped gingerly, eyes flickering up toward Leo. “Don’t just stand there watching me,” he muttered.

“Uh, sorry,” Leo said, dropping back down next to the bed. He picked up the PADD he’d given Jim earlier and began scrolling down the allergies he’d listed. Many of them were artificial--preservatives found in processed foodstuff used by Starfleet, inconveniently enough, when fresh items were impractical or in short supply--but there was an assortment of the more typical foods as well, including peanuts, melon, and shellfish, plus some of the standard binders used in hypo-administered meds. He sighed. “Wow, kid. You’ve got a boatload of allergies.”

Jim snorted. “Tell me about it.” He took another careful sip of broth and made a face. “I think I can taste all those vitamins they put in here.”

Leo glanced up. “Meant to be tasteless, but I suspect in those quantities you get a little bit of kick back. Is it awful?”

“Nah,” Jim mumbled, staring into the bowl. “’s fine.”

The sat in silence for a while, Jim cautiously eating while Leo flicked through various files on his PADD. He appended Jim’s list to his chart and made a few additional notes. By the time he noticed that Jim had stopped eating, a good half hour had passed.

“Give up?” he asked, noticing that the bowl was still about a third full. He frowned. “You should try to finish if you can.”

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” Jim told him. “Not feeling so great,” he admitted with obvious reluctance.

Leo eyed the kid’s pinched expression. “Nauseated?”

“Uh huh.” A slightly panicked look crept into the kid’s eyes. “Oh god...” He leaned over the bowl and was sick.

Leo grabbed a few sterile wipes from a container next to the bed and handed them over, then, after a brief hesitation, began to gently rub Jim’s back. “Easy,” he murmured. “You’ve had a tough morning.”

“Ugh,” Jim groaned, wiping his mouth.

“Think you’re done?

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” Leo whisked the bowl out of the way, dropping the soiled wipes on top and putting the whole mess on the supply cart near the door. He headed back and pulled the covers more securely up over Jim. “You just rest for a bit. Can try again later when you’ve had a chance to calm down and relax a while.”

“But we will try again, right?” Jim prodded.

“Yeah, kid, I promise, okay? Want some water?”

“Um, not right now.”

“That’s fine. Just lie back, maybe take a little nap.”

“Want to see the others,” he murmured.

“I know. And I’ll bring them by in a little bit. Let yourself recover. That’s what you’re here for.” Leo lowered the bed again and sat back down. “Come on. Close your eyes for an hour.”

“You’ll stay?” Jim asked sleepily.

“I’ll be right here.”

Leo picked up his PADD again, sure the kid would be asleep within moments, so it was with some surprise that he heard a soft “Doc?” a short while later.

“What is it, Jim?” he asked, giving up on correcting the kid’s form of address for now.

“’m sorry,” he murmured quietly, blue eyes dark with regret.

“About what?”

Jim raised his hand slightly in Leo’s direction. “Hitting you on the head that day.”

“I know, kid. Don’t worry about it. Go to sleep.”

Over the next hour, Leo watched Jim toss and turn restlessly, jolting awake whenever someone passed along the ward and only dropping back to sleep once his eyes landed on Leo. He seemed to achieve REM quickly each time, but his continued restlessness even then spoke of disturbing dreams at war with sheer exhaustion.

Leo scanned through some files on his PADD while the kid tried to rest, reviewing the breakdown of the traditional antibiotics and anti-inflammatories they had been using on the colonists, searching for something that wouldn’t set off the kid’s allergies, then pulling up Sheila’s documentation on Liza and Kevin. Liza had been listed as Liza Olafson, daughter of Anna and Frederick, and Kevin as Kevin Riley, son of Maureen and Brendan. Both children had been living on Tarsus with their parents and siblings, all of whom were currently presumed dead. Leo noted that Kevin, at least, had family back on Earth. Liza’s file was marked as pending, indicating that Starfleet would be running a search for her next of kin. Jim’s file, by contrast, was disturbingly blank, holding no more than the list of his allergies, his scan results, and the initial treatment protocol Leo had determined. In the absence of a surname, he was listed by patient number alone.

Intake was Leo’s job. Normally the missing information was the first he obtained—full name, age, list of surviving relatives within the colony and elsewhere. Scrubbing a hand over his stubble-rough chin, he glanced at the boy who barely displaced the covers on his bed. He knew he was going to have to bring in someone for a formal psych evaluation, but Jim’s behavior screamed of more than trauma. Something told Leo this was a kid used to keeping secrets.

~*~

Jim woke an hour later, almost to the minute. Leo had him drink some more fortified water, and when that seemed to stay down, brought up the need for a hypo. The mutinous expression on Jim’s face, along with the elevated heart rate reflected on the screen above the bed, told him exactly what the kid thought of that idea.

“You’ve been exposed to all sorts of bacteria and foreign matter living in hiding, foraging for food, and your immune system is severely compromised,” Leo explained, knowing that sugar-coating the situation would get him nowhere. “Your body’s struggling to fight off infection that would lay you low for a couple of days under normal circumstances, but right now could kill you.”

Jim only glared at him, hands gripping at the sides of the bed, body tense as if he were ready to make a run for it.

Leo sighed. “I’ve reviewed that list you made, cross-referenced it against our standard drug cocktail. There’s one component you’re allergic to, but I can adjust for that so you shouldn’t have a reaction. It’ll weaken the mix--means you’ll need a daily hypo probably for the next week instead of the standard three-day cycle--but it’ll keep you from coming down with anything more serious until we can build up your natural immunities.”

Case presented, he stood next to the bio-bed and waited for Jim to think things through. The kid kept right on holding his gaze, blue eyes probing, but Leo could tell his quick intellect was turning the facts over, considering everything he’d been told.

“I don’t want you knocking me out,” he said eventually.

“No sedatives,” Leo agreed. “Natural rest is the best thing for you.”

Finally Jim nodded. “Okay.”

“Good call. I’ll be right back.” Leo headed down the hall toward the supply locker and keyed in his access code. He sorted through the vials and assembled the treatment hypo, then grabbed a selection of antihistamines and made up a secondary dose, and signed everything out with the duty nurse in charge.

“Whoa, you said one,” Jim protested the moment Leo returned, bolting straight up, his gaze homing in on the two devices.

“Take it easy. This is the hypo I told you about,” Leo said, holding up one hand, “and this is backup in case you have an unexpected reaction,” he continued, waving the second hypo before setting it down on the bedside cart. “Didn’t want to have to go running off looking for something to get you breathin’ again in a worst-case scenario.”

Jim frowned. “I thought you said you checked the drugs against the list I gave you.”

“I did, but nothing’s foolproof. You may have allergies you aren’t aware of yet, plus things can develop as you get older, especially when your immune system is under stress. Got it?”

“Yeah. That makes sense,” Jim agreed, relaxing back on the bed again.

“All right now. Hold still.” He reached out and urged Jim to tip his head to the side, supporting it with the palm of one hand while he pressed the hypo gently against the exposed side of his neck and released the trigger.

Jim blinked, biting down on his bottom lip, but other than that, there was no reaction.

Leo rubbed over the injection spot with his thumb to ease the sting. “There you go. Let’s give that a couple of minutes now, make sure you don’t have a reaction, and then I’ll run over and see if Liza and Kevin can come visit with you.”

In truth, he would have rather subjected him to a couple of hours under a dermal regenerator first, but he knew Jim was worried about the little kids and he couldn’t keep putting off his request to see them and still maintain any level of trust. Besides, the kid was cooperating, despite his reluctance to talk, and Leo knew good behavior always deserved a reward.

True to his word, Leo went to the infirmary, fetched the two other children, and brought them back to Jim’s ward, but the reunion filled him with conflicting emotions. Liza and Kevin, both clean and looking healthier for it, dashed across to Jim as soon as they arrived, climbing up onto the bed with an unchildlike caution tempering their obvious excitement. Leo did not have to warn them to be careful of Jim; they knew instinctively--or perhaps from experience--that he was in no shape to be jostled or jumped on.

Jim lit up for the two little kids, exhibiting the first real smile Leo had seen from him and a spark of life in his blue eyes that hinted at what a handsome young man he would be under normal circumstances--at an appropriate weight, without dark circles around sunken eyes or hollowed cheeks, his hair holding a healthy sheen. For him to be so ravaged at just thirteen--Leo felt the anger building deep in his gut, and with it the urge to punch someone. Rather than risk the kids seeing him lose his temper, he let one of the nurses know he’d be back shortly and made his way outside.

Few people were milling about. It was late afternoon, not quite time for a shift change, though Leo realized he had been with Jim long past his own quitting time. The sun was starting to sink over the settlement, a deep orange that bounced off the distant rooftops and set the forest aglow. The sight reminded him of the burnt husk of the governor’s mansion, and Leo forced himself to turn away, focusing on the rows of relief tents and temporary structures, on the good they were attempting to do, even if it had come too late for so many. Still, it was a while before he felt calm enough to go back inside.

After Liza and Kevin left to get dinner, both having been deemed sufficiently healthy to eat regular meals, Leo got out the dermal regenerator. Jim watched him attentively but showed no sign of apprehension or surprise.

“I’m assuming you’ve seen one of these before,” Leo said.

Jim just nodded.

“Okay then. Let’s see what we can do about healing some of those bruises.” Leo helped the kid hike up his shirt, then had him roll onto his side so he could access his back, intent on tending first to the marks--half-healed contusions and bruises--that were clearly no accident. He ramped up the setting, careful to keep it low enough to avoid unnecessary pain, while still strong enough to work on the underlying tissue.

“Want to tell me how you got these?”

Silence.

“I know it might not seem like it’ll make a difference to talk about it,” he said, watching the tense set of Jim’s neck and shoulders, “but it can’t hurt either.”

“Why do you want to know, anyway?” Jim mumbled.

“Because I care. Because I can tell that someone hurt you.”

“You don’t even know me. Maybe I deserved it.”

“No one deserves to get beat on like that,” Leo bit out. “Especially not a kid. There’s nothing you could have done that merited that kind of treatment. Not the beating, not the rest of it,” he added softly, watching the slender back stiffen at his words.

“Yeah, well, s’over so it doesn’t matter,” Jim murmured.

“It does matter. Look, you don’t have to tell me. I just wanted you to know that if you do feel like talking about it, you can, all right?”

Jim didn’t reply. When Leo leaned forward to see his expression, he realized the kid had dozed off under the quiet hum of the regenerator.

~*~

Leo woke abruptly to the sound of his name and a hand on his shoulder giving him a rough shake. A dim light hovered beside his bunk, the figure crouching beyond it too deep in shadow to identify.

“Wha?” he murmured, sleep still pulling at him.

“McCoy,” the voice came again. “Wake up, you are needed.”

The words filtered into Leo’s fatigued brain. “Dr. Puri?” he asked, already pushing himself upright, shoving at his covers.

“Yes. My apologies for rousing you, but the boy you were working with is in hysterics. He will not let anyone else near him.”

“Jim?” Leo staggered to his feet, grabbing a pair of pants from the chair beside his bed, suddenly wide awake. “What happened?” He dressed hastily, stepping into his boots without bothering to lace them.

“Nurse Benton went to check his vitals while he was asleep. He woke up and became distraught. No one can calm him down or even get close enough to sedate him.”

“Damn it, the kid’s terrified of just about everyone here,” McCoy grumbled as they hurried out of the residence tent and headed for medical.

“Which is why I came for you instead of simply calling security.”

The path through the relief tents was sparsely lit but Leo broke into a jog as soon as his eyes adjusted, leaving the doctor behind. He remembered the terror in Jim’s gaze that morning and found himself wishing he’d bunked in with the kid for the night.

Leo dashed through the flap into the hospital facility without even slowing, abruptly adjusting course inside to avoid colliding with a nurse on his way out. “Sorry,” he called back, continuing into the sturdier section of the structure, his loose boots thudding rhythmically on the raised flooring. Here he was forced to a fast walk, weaving past stretchers, carts of medical equipment and the occasional wandering patient. He could hear shouting ahead--a sound he was already coming to associate with Jim--and, cursing under his breath, he darted toward the entrance to Jim’s ward. Rounding the corner, he slammed into someone running straight at him, just as he registered a voice calling out, “Grab him!” His arms closed reflexively on the thin figure as he braced himself to keep them both upright and found himself holding a trembling Jim to his chest.

“No, let me go,” the kid cried hoarsely, pressing at Leo and beating at him with clenched fists, too close to get any real momentum in his swings. He kicked out wildly, shaking with fear even as he struggled to free himself.

“Whoa, there,” Leo soothed, trying to hold onto the terrified, writhing boy without hurting him. “Easy, Jim, it’s me, it’s Leo, calm down.” Keeping his arms around him, Leo dropped his weight, dragging the kid down with him so they were curled together in a heap on the floor. “Shh,” he murmured. “It’s okay, I’ve got ya.”

Leo’s soft tone and words seemed to get through to Jim and finally he ceased his fight to escape. He sat, tense in Leo’s arms, head bowed, breathing ragged and wheezing, fists clenched over handfuls of Leo’s t-shirt.

“That’s it, relax now,” Leo whispered. “No one’s going to hurt you, promise.” He rubbed up and down Jim’s back with one hand, feeling how pronounced his ribs were through the thin fabric of the scrubs he wore. “Easy does it. Deep breaths.”

Looking up, Leo saw two nurses and a doctor standing several feet ahead of him, watching him calm Jim. Dr. Puri had arrived, as well, and was standing to his side.

“Everything is fine now,” Puri declared. “Everyone please resume your duties.” Leo remained where he sat, curled protectively around Jim as the others filed past and out of the ward. Puri crouched down, a hand on his shoulder. “Review his chart, make sure everything is taken care of. We need to talk later.”

“Yes, Doctor. Thanks for coming for me.”

“Thank you, McCoy.” Puri rose and left.

Leo let out a long sigh, chin resting momentarily on Jim’s bowed head. “Okay, kid, think you can stand up?” he asked, leaning back to try to see the boy’s face.

Thin shoulders shrugged, but Jim began to shift slowly back out of Leo’s lap, his face still averted. As soon as he was clear, Leo gently took him by the forearms and lifted as he himself rose to his feet, feeling a profound sense of déjà vu. Jim followed him upward, wobbly as a new colt and ten times more fragile. He tried to pivot to head toward his bed, but even with Leo’s support, his knees gave out and he nearly fell.

“Damn it, Jim, you can’t keep dashing all over like this,” Leo muttered, easing an arm around the boy and supporting him against his side as they slowly inched across the floor. “You’re too weak, and it’s just asking for further injury.” He wasn’t surprised when Jim said nothing. He helped him into the bed and arranged the tangled covers. Jim’s skin had taken on a gray sheen that leeched at his tan and sweat beaded along his forehead.

“Have you kept any food down at all?” Leo asked, frowning as he grabbed for the PADD at the end of the bed and called up the chart. He swore at the notations. “Is this what set you off? Them wanting to start you on a drip?”

Jim nodded slowly, but refused to make eye contact. “You promised,” he whispered.

Leo exhaled sharply. “I promised you that we’d try,” he reminded him. “But I also told you that if you couldn’t keep the food down, it would be necessary to hook you up the old fashioned way until you’re stronger. It won’t hurt, just a little pinch to insert the port, and then you’ll be able to lie there and catch up on your sleep while we pump you full of all kinds of good vitamins.”

“And whatever else you want,” Jim bit out.

Leo paused at the harsh words. “What?”

Jim just shook his head, shifting himself painfully so he was facing away from Leo.

“Kid? Talk to me. What did you mean?” When Jim continued to give him his back, Leo walked around the bed and took hold of his shoulders before he could roll away again. “Jim,” he murmured softly. “Come on. Tell me what has you so worried.”

Jim was chewing at his bottom lip, gaze still averted, but with Leo’s final whispered, “Please,” he looked up, eyes wide and haunted. “The port,” he said. “You can use it to force anything into me. Food, drugs, whatever. Anything at all, and I won’t have a clue what it is.”

Something told Leo that Jim was speaking from experience and he swallowed down a wave of nausea. “Jim,” he said slowly. “We would never do that. We’ll use the port to help you get stronger, for nutritional supplements, vitamins, minerals, all the things your body needs to recover. If you need any more meds to fight off infection or anything else that develops, that will be administered by hypo and we will tell you ahead of time, just like I did today.” Deep blue eyes continued to stare up at him, doubt and hope clearly at war.

“Look,” Leo said, reaching for the PADD that contained Jim’s chart. “See here? The allergy list you gave me is flagged, and we’ve got instructions that all treatment be discussed prior to administration.” He passed the device over, watched as Jim’s gaze flickered down to the screen, eyes darting back and forth, assessing the information as it had been recorded. Finally he looked up at Leo again and gave him a brief nod.

Leo let out a breath he was only half aware of holding. “Jim,” he began, “did someone do that to you before? Did someone use a port to drug you?”

Another nod, even briefer.

“Who?”

Jim just continued to stare at Leo, as if the answer to his question should be obvious.

“Kodos?” he pressed quietly, hating to say the name. “Or someone acting on his orders?”

One more nod, a bare motion that Leo was only half sure he had seen. Then Jim closed his eyes and held out his arm.

“Jesus, kid.” Leo stroked gently over the slim arm, fingers tracing the veins that stood out in sharp relief, noting a faded mark on the back of his hand that he’d originally taken for just another bruise. “Okay. Hold on.”

He went and gathered the necessary supplies from the cart at the far end of the bed. Returning to Jim, he helped him roll onto his back and get centered on the bed.

“Comfortable enough?” he questioned, tugging at the sheets that had bunched with Jim’s squirming.

“”m fine.”

“Okay. I’m just going to insert the port and get you set up now,” he told him, donning a pair of sterile gloves. He inserted the port into Jim’s hand with a single smooth motion. “All right?” he asked again, glancing up to make sure the kid wasn’t in pain.

“Yeah.” He blinked slowly, fatigue lining his face, but Leo could feel the tension gradually bleeding out of him where he held him at wrist and elbow.

“Good. Just lie back and relax. I’m going to start you on a simple solution that will get some necessary nutrients into your system and build up your blood. You should start feeling a little less sluggish within twenty-four hours, but no using your new-found energy to make a break for it, got it?”

A faint, sleepy smile graced Jim’s lips. “Got it. Thanks, Doc.”

“Just Leo, kid. Or McCoy, if you’d rather.” Leo gave his arm a pat and set about attaching the drip. By the time he was done, Jim’s eyes had drifted closed, his breathing relaxed and steady. Leo stripped off his gloves and stood watching him, the gentle rise and fall of his chest such a contrast to his fearful gasping of just a half hour before. The readout on the bio-bed reflected his calmer state, even as it reported his tenuous physical condition.

Glancing at his chrono, Leo realized it was nearly morning. The ward was quiet, patients in the other parts of the hospital resting or asleep. Giving up on a good night’s rest of his own, Leo went and grabbed the chair from the other side of the room and placed it silently in front of the one next to Jim’s bed. Then he settled himself, propping his feet up and scrunching down as best he could, arms folded across his chest to help him balance in the event he managed to dose off.

~*~

Jim’s revelation in the wee hours haunted Leo through the next morning as he checked his vitals and determined that the drip was starting to do its work, but he refused to leave the boy alone until he was more accustomed to the comings and goings of the hospital routine. He had sent a comm to request a shift in his duty roster first thing, and received word almost immediately that Dr. Puri had already arranged for him to work solely with Jim for the next two days.

But that didn’t mean he had the leisure to search for answers; once Jim was awake he took up most of Leo’s attention, having suddenly decided to become talkative, peppering him with questions about growing up in Georgia, medical school, and anything else he could think of, all while deftly deflecting any questions about his own identity and experiences. Leo was willing enough to regale the kid with stories about his family, since it kept his spirits up and his focus off his treatment as Leo worked on him some more with the regenerator, but he was still glad when Sheila appeared shortly before lunchtime with Liza and Kevin in tow. Jim was delighted to see the little kids again, and the distraction gave Leo a chance to go do a bit of research.

Individual PADDs within the relief camp were networked but their capacity was limited. For in-depth medical research or to access Federation records, IAR workers were able to sign onto the more powerful admin terminals, and records were maintained of all searches. With a copy of Jim’s scans, Leo logged on and uploaded the files, cross checking the data to see if any aspects of his condition could have been caused by something other than starvation. No drugs had been immediately obvious in his system, but that did not mean that they hadn’t done their damage and then been flushed to establish a fresh baseline or simply to avoid detection.

He watched with growing horror as the computer spit back a long list of possibilities, including approved substances, banned compounds, and numerous drugs that were in the experimental phase--and those were just substances on record. An entire class of narcotics was ranked as particularly volatile when applied to a compromised immune system, setting off a chain reaction of side effects and long-term organ damage that closely mimicked those experienced by individuals suffering severe malnutrition.

Leo rubbed his hands over his face and slumped down in front of the console. Unless Jim was willing to tell them what drugs had been administered--assuming he even knew--there was virtually no chance of narrowing it down, not with the clean tox screen. And what the hell was Kodos doing drugging the colonists, anyway? Where did this fit into the bizarre puzzle of a situation that was taking shape on the planet?

He transferred copies of the data to his PADD and was getting ready to go check on Jim when his comm pinged, alerting him to a summons from Dr. Puri. Wondering how much of his suspicion he should share with the doctor, given he had no physical evidence to go on, he headed off to his meeting.

~*~

“Please sit, Mr. McCoy. We need to discuss your patient.”

Dr. Puri perched behind a small desk, an array of PADDs spread out before him. Both IAR and Starfleet had a few temporary offices within the camp, with doctors and officers sharing space, assigning the small rooms whenever someone needed privacy for meetings with staff or colonists rather than allocating them permanently to specific individuals. As a result, the area was tiny and impersonal, holding nothing beyond the desk, several chairs, and a console that could be used to display anything from medical records to evacuation plans.

Leo obligingly took a seat across from the doctor, his own PADD resting across his thighs. “He’s doing better today,” he said by way of an opening. “His system at least seems capable of nutrient absorption, though I’m most worried about his bone density. I’m considering giving him some time with the osteoregenerator, just as a hedge against the calcium depletion.” He paused when Dr. Puri held up a hand.

“I have his chart on hand, McCoy, thank you. I’ve been monitoring your work with the patient and your decisions have been sound.”

“Of course,” Leo said, realizing there was no way he would have been allowed to treat a patient without some level of supervision, even if it was from a distance. As he himself had been quick to tell Jim, he wasn’t a doctor yet. “Then what did you want to discuss?”

“Starfleet and IAR have scheduled a full-scale evacuation of the planet to begin in three days time. Within two weeks, we expect to be down to a skeleton crew.”

“That fast? I thought security patrols were still searching for colonists.”

Dr. Puri nodded, lips pinched together. “They are, but they don’t expect to find more than a handful of remaining survivors at best. Once the evacuation is complete, there will be continued efforts to recover the dead for transport back to their loved ones, and naturally an ongoing investigation, but the formal rescue effort will be over.”

Leo blew out a long breath. “I suppose that’s good, isn’t it? That’s the goal, to get these people out of here.”

Puri leaned forward, elbows propped on the desk, fingers interlocked. “We have identified family members who will take the two younger children, Liza and Kevin. They have been scheduled for the first transport back to Earth. However, according to your records, we are no closer to learning the identity of the boy Jim than we were this time yesterday.”

“I realize that. I’ve tried to get him to talk to me, but he shuts his mouth good and proper the minute I ask about anything important, or else just ignores the question and goes off on another topic entirely.”

“The boy trusts you, McCoy,” Dr. Puri pointed out. “Whether he likes you or senses your kindness or simply feels safe with you because you are younger than the rest of the workers here is immaterial. You have the best chance of getting him to confide in you, and it is imperative that we identify him as swiftly as possible in order to make arrangements for his evacuation. I have modified your schedule to allow you time to work with him, but after tomorrow we will no longer be able to spare you from the rest of your duties. There is far too much work to be done if we are to get everyone safely off of Tarsus.” He pushed to his feet. “I also anticipate that Lieutenant Bryce will wish to discuss the location of the boy’s hiding place. As of last night he had still not located the other children you spoke of, and if he fails to find them today, well, I need not tell you that the longer they are out there unaccounted for, the less likely we are to find them alive. Get the boy to talk.”

Leo stood and faced the doctor. “I can’t force the kid to do anything. I know all this information is important, but I’m not going to browbeat him. He’s been through hell on this planet, maybe more than any of the other colonists I’ve spoken with.”

“I’m not asking you to intimidate him, Mr. McCoy. We are not in the business of torturing patients. But you have to make him understand the importance of opening up to you. His medical treatment can continue shipboard, but we need to secure his destination and we need to locate those other children. If this is too difficult, I will find someone else to speak with him.”

Suddenly Leo remembered the Betazoid on staff. He knew Jim likely needed more help than he himself could provide with his limited psych training, but a potentially invasive encounter--at least from the kid’s point of view--wasn’t the answer. “I’ll do my best,” he replied quickly.

~*~

Part Three

FIC: Not in Our Stars (Star Trek AOS, R) Part 1/5

2012-04-19T21:53:31Z

Title: Not in Our Stars
Author: Emluv emluv
Beta: Lindmere lindmere
Fandom/Spoilers: Star Trek AOS, borrowing from TOS
Characters: Leonard McCoy, Jim Kirk
Rating: R
Length: approx. 36,300 words complete
Warnings: Some swearing; minor violence; angst; mentions of physical, emotional, and sexual abuse in a captive situation as described by a character after the fact.
Disclaimer: Star Trek is owned by the Roddenberry estate, Paramount Pictures, and probably a few others who are not me. No profit made, no infringement intended.
Archive/Distribution: Please ask.
Date: April 19, 2012

Summary/Author’s Note: Written for a prompt on the buckleup_meme requesting a fic in which brilliant young medical student Leonard McCoy volunteers for a Doctors Without Borders-type organization and ends up helping with the rescue efforts on Tarsus IV, where he meets a teenage, traumatized Jim Kirk, who will, for whatever reason, allow only McCoy to treat him. I have played fast and loose with TOS information about Tarsus IV and its location, making it closer to Earth so that McCoy could feasibly make it there and back in one summer.

Title taken from Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar, Act I, scene ii: “The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, But in our selves...”

This fic is complete and will be posted in five parts at regular intervals. Additional notes follow the final part.

~*~

Part One

~*~

Leonard McCoy understood when he signed on as a medical aid volunteer the summer following his first year of med school that there was a chance he’d get sent off-planet. The organization was called Interstellar Aid and Relief, after all. But he knew people who’d worked with IAR--colleagues of his father’s at Atlanta General, med students ahead of him in his program, even a few of his professors--and the vast majority had ended up working no more than a continent or two from home. Humans were not the only citizens of the universe to offer assistance during medical emergencies, and IAR knew better than to waste valuable resources shipping doctors all over the galaxy when there were local relief workers available. Between that and his age--not even twenty, despite his credentials--Leo figured it was a pretty safe bet that, barring a catastrophe, he’d remain planetside.

How was he to know that mere days after he filled out his IAR paperwork, the Federation would be facing the political shit-storm of the century?

~*~

2246 -- Tarsus IV

Leo’s first view of Tarsus IV came through the window of a shuttle as it rattled its way through the atmosphere bound for the colony below. It was sheer luck that he saw anything, given how tightly his eyes had been shut for most of the trip. The starship that brought the IAR volunteers from Earth had been bad enough, but it was sufficiently large that their movement was all but undetectable and he could almost fool himself that he wasn’t actually in space. In the shuttle, there was no hope of self-deception. Between his lurching stomach and frazzled nerves, he’d been convinced the best strategy was to take deep breaths, keep his eyes shut, and hold on for dear life until they were back on solid ground. Yet despite his fear, he was curious about the planet that was their destination, so when Lieutenant Reynolds, the Starfleet pilot manning the controls, announced they were landing, he risked cracking open an eye.

It was late afternoon at the point where they made their approach and the low-lying sun sent long shadows arching over the valley where the colony was situated. Rows of buildings sat at the foot of a small mountain range, their placement allowing for a town square and a number of additional open spaces, shaded with trees, that might have been designated for recreation. One of the larger buildings abutting the main square was blackened and misshapen, one wall caved in; Leo suspected it was the burned out mansion of Governor Kodos.

At the far end of the settlement, a broad river ran down from the mountains, continuing perpendicular to the colonized area and serving to divide it from a massive forest range. Nestled in the angle formed by the town and the river were individual houses, set in pairs with barns and fenced in parcels of land stretching past them toward the horizon across the wide, flat terrain. Even from a few thousand feet up, Leo could see the decimated fields that lay below. According to the briefing they had received during the trip, it was late autumn for the Tarsus colony, yet where there should have been acres of gold and brown--the remains of the harvest season--was instead a twisted mass of purple and black, field upon field poisoned by blight.

“What a waste,” said one of the other volunteers.

Distracted by the sight, Leo merely nodded.

He managed to keep his equilibrium through the shuttle’s landing, though he maintained his white-knuckled grip on his arm rests until Lieutenant Reynolds informed them they should prepare to disembark. He unbuckled his harness and grabbed his duffel from overhead, then followed the rest of his team out into the cool air of Tarsus.

Starfleet had arrived at the colony nearly three weeks earlier, bringing with them a skeleton crew of medical personnel in the belief that the unrest was primarily political in nature. Only once they had discovered the severity of the situation had they requested extensive medical and humanitarian relief, triggering IAR to send people in to treat and evacuate survivors. Leo had viewed the early news holos, the first reports on the atrocities Starfleet discovered--four thousand colonists slaughtered; many more dead of starvation; still others suffering malnutrition, dehydration, and the effects of unnamed abuse. He had read further reports during the two-week trip from Earth, briefings from both Starfleet and IAR. But as he stepped off the shuttle, he realized that nothing had quite prepared him for the reality.

Though it was not yet dark, an unnatural silence enveloped the area. The only sounds seemed to come from the sector where the relief workers had set up their tents. Beyond that, the town itself was completely devoid of noise. Though Leo spotted a number of hover-bikes and other small vehicles, they were parked or pulled haphazardly to the sides of the road, traffic nonexistent. Nor were there any pedestrians. It was as if daily activity in the settlement had simply ground to a halt in the wake of the killings and the rebellion--even now that help had arrived. Smoke hung on the stagnant air, faint yet persistent like the taint of hell.

Leo made his way with the rest of the volunteers to the tent that served as IAR headquarters. Two young women and a man were handing out bunk assignments and work details. He stood in the line and received a satchel containing bed linens and a chip with a map of the camp. The woman heading his line squinted at her PADD before looking up at him.

“You’re really in med school?” she asked. “You don’t look old enough to have finished high school yet.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied, used to the reaction. “I’m really in medical school.”

Glancing down again, she murmured, “Says here you’ve a graduate degree in psych. Done any work with trauma victims before?”

“Some.”

She marked something down on the PADD. “Glad to have you, McCoy. Report to tent five at 0700.”

Leo nodded politely and exited through the rear of the tent. From there it was easy to see where they were housing the staff; a long green tent with access at either end was a hub of activity. Past it he spotted another structure with a sign over the entrance declaring it the mess hall. He went to find his bed, one of a number of mismatched frames with mattresses, half of them bare, which had been lined up against one long wall of the temporary quarters. Leo quickly made up his mattress and shoved his duffel under the bed, then went to get some dinner.

The mess was more crowded than it looked at first glance, with Starfleet and IAR workers eating side by side, mostly in silence. Leo nodded at a few people he’d met on the trip over, but he was too tired and anxious by that point to feel particularly chatty. He swallowed down a replicated meal of soup and a salad and returned to his bunk. The bed to his left had been made up since he’d gone to dinner, though its owner was nowhere in sight, while the one on his right was still unclaimed. Leo went to wash up, then came back and crawled beneath his regulation blankets. He was snoring lightly before either of his neighbors turned in for the night.

~*~

Leo cradled his coffee between his hands, warming his palms as he walked through the early morning light. It was only his third day at the colony and already he had developed something of a routine. He woke early--far earlier than he would have preferred--dressed quickly and headed down to the mess for whatever replicated substance was passing for the morning's breakfast, as well as a large mug of the surprisingly decent coffee. The mess was always busy, but there was little conversation among the volunteers at meal time. It was as if the stark conditions on the planet had seeped into all of them, coloring their moods and blackening their thoughts.

Still, Leo had managed to make the acquaintance of a number of people since his arrival. Rafe Wilkinson, who had the bed to his left, was a quiet young medic from the British Isles. Recently divorced, he had joined IAR in hopes of distracting his chaotic thoughts and finding something to focus on beyond his own miserable circumstance. Leo and Rafe had been assigned the same morning shift in the main medical tent, processing new arrivals and assessing both physical and mental conditions before recommending further treatment. Already they had found themselves lumped together by many of the doctors and nurses, due in part to their distinctive accents--Leonard’s Southern drawl warring with Rafe's clipped Britishisms--never mind that they sounded nothing alike. There was also Ben Klein, the neighbor to the other side of Leo's bunk. Klein, like Leo, was in medical school, though a year ahead. Having taken a longer route to finding his calling, he was also a good fifteen years older and far more cynical.

Among the medical staff, Leo had the most interaction with Dr. Puri, a surgeon who had just completed his training at Starfleet Academy and had been sent to Tarsus as his first official assignment. He’d also crossed paths with a Betazoid mind healer, there to work with the colonists suffering the most severe trauma. There were other Starfleet personnel on the planet whom Leo recognized only to nod to as they crossed paths--primarily science officers, but also members of the security teams that were charged both with maintaining peace in the colony and combing the nearby forest for survivors who might still be keeping their distance.

In lieu of socializing, Leo went for a walk in the morning until it was time for his first shift. Later in the day he would lend a hand around the camp wherever he was needed, even if he wasn’t on duty, but mornings were quiet and he took advantage of the bare hour of free time to clear his head. He had learned the first day that as long as he steered clear of the areas where Starfleet security was actively working, no one much cared where he went or what he did.

It was like wandering through a ghost town. Most businesses had been closed already when Starfleet arrived in response to the distress call, owners dead or dying or simply vanished. Those who had been spared in the massacre had often been too weak or too frightened to return to work, or else saw little point in opening their doors when customers were nonexistent. There was something eerie about walking past the darkened windows. Occasionally Leo would startle at movement reflected in the panes of glass, only to realize that it was his own image he was seeing from the corner of his eye. Which made it all the more surprising when he turned a corner to find a little girl huddled on the stoop of one of the shops.

When Leo realized he was staring at a child, he stopped dead in the middle of the street. She was young--no more than four years old--and simply sat there in the corner between the door and the side of the building, thumb in her mouth and knees tucked up to her chest. Her eyes grew wide when she saw Leo and she trembled faintly, pushing back into the building as if trying to make herself invisible.

“Hey there, sweetheart,” Leo murmured softly. “What’s your name?”

The little girl remained silent, dull brown eyes enormous in her too-thin face. Leo took careful stock of her condition as best he could from a distance, afraid to move closer and risk frightening her more. Her dirty blonde hair had been pulled clumsily off her face, plaited and tied with a length of string. Her clothes needed washing and her face was grimy, though no more than that of a child who had spent a full day playing outdoors. She was obviously underweight but not dangerously so; someone had been making an effort to take care of her.

“I’m Leo,” he told her, careful to keep his voice low and soothing. “Are you hungry? Would you like to come get something for breakfast?”

Her thumb sucking seemed to grow more frantic, and Leo knelt, setting his mug of coffee to the side, trying to appear less threatening. “It’s okay,” he murmured. “I’m here to help. No one’s going to hurt you.”

The child’s eyebrows rose alarmingly high and her lips parted, releasing her thumb. Just as Leo thought she was about to respond, he heard a shuffling sound behind him. He started to turn and barely caught sight of movement as something slammed into the side of his head, sending him sprawling.

Although not hard enough to knock him unconscious, the blow made his brains rattle. Lying flat out on his stomach, cheek resting hard against the cool, gritty pavement, Leo watched sparks of light flicker before his eyes. At least he’d been kneeling down and hadn’t had far to fall. Taking a deep breath, he pressed up onto his hands and knees. His stomach roiled briefly and he inhaled again through his nose. A small branch lay on the ground beside him, along with his spilled coffee; they seemed out of focus. Possible concussion, Leo assessed clinically.

He shifted toward where the little girl had been, wincing as his head protested the movement. The child was gone, of course, but at the far end of the street he could just make out a blond boy in a torn blue shirt carrying her around a corner and out of sight.

~*~

Just over an hour later and only slightly worse for wear, Leo slipped into the intake tent and made for his usual table. Rafe was already there, sorting through a stack of PADDs. He glanced up as Leo sat down.

“You sure you’re feeling well enough for this?”

“I’m here to work, not do time as a patient. Puri cleared me for duty.”

Rafe shook his head. “I still cannot believe some kid whacked you one.”

“Yeah, well. He had to be scared out of his mind, all that’s been going down here. It wasn’t personal.” Leo prodded gently at the back of his head and winced. Dr. Puri had given him a hypo to alleviate his headache and the worst of the swelling, but there was still a lump there and it was definitely a bit tender. At least he didn’t have a concussion.

“You were just trying to help.”

“Kid had no way of knowing that.” Leo frowned, thinking back to the waif-like figure he had seen running off. “I wonder where they’ve been hiding. Starfleet’s made a good sweep of the town.”

“There’s only so many patrols. And all those abandoned farm houses on the fringe of the settlement. Plus the mountains, the forest. But I imagine they’ll track them down eventually.”

“I don’t know,” Leo muttered. “Stayed hidden this long, didn’t they? Miracle they’re still alive.”

Rafe passed him a PADD. “I know you’re concerned about them, Leo, but there’s nothing you can do about it.” He pointed a finger at the screen. “Except your job.”

Leo glanced at the PADD and sighed. “Right.” He reached over to where his coffee usually sat, only to realize he had never replaced the mug he’d dropped that morning when he was attacked. He sighed again. It was going to be a very long day.

He spent the next several hours talking to survivors, mostly young men and women who had been spared in the massive genocide ordered by the governor. The most common symptom among them beyond malnutrition was severe shock--both in reaction to what they had seen and lived through, and in response to their own behavior. Leo understood that survivor’s guilt was likely to be the single most pervasive and ongoing issue for those who made it off of Tarsus IV. These were people who witnessed the execution of their friends and neighbors, even family members, but did nothing. Nothing to save the others, nothing to punish the individuals responsible for their deaths. For the most part, these were adults in the prime of their lives and, at the time that Kodos’s decree came down, still physically healthy, if hungry. They could have organized, they could have stood against Kodos, but instead they chose to go along with his decision rather than put their own lives at risk. Soon enough they would understand that, and that was when they would truly need help. Right now, it was just his job to talk to them, to make sure they were healthy enough for the evacuation procedures, and to learn who needed to be contacted on their behalf back on Earth.

It was a relief when lunchtime rolled around. Leo ducked into the mess tent, grimacing at the noise. He wasn’t sure if everyone was more talkative that afternoon or his painkiller was simply wearing off. He worked his way through the line as quickly as he could and took his tray outside where there were additional tables, making for the one farthest from the mess entrance. The cool weather meant he was alone in his decision to dodge the crowd inside, and he sank down in a puddle of weak sunshine, grateful for the peace and quiet.

His solitude was short lived. A moment after he sat, a bulky young man in a red Starfleet shirt came over to join him. “McCoy, right?” he asked, dropping down across from Leo, PADD in hand.

“That’s me,” Leo replied. “Can I help you with something?”

“Lieutenant Bryce. Sorry to interrupt your meal, but Dr. Puri filed a report about your incident this morning and I need to follow up.”

Leo took a swallow of coffee, then nodded. “What do you need to know? I told Puri what happened.”

“I understand that, but it’s important that we get every detail straight if we’re going to find the children you saw.”

Leo felt some of the tension drain out of him. At least he wasn’t the only one worried about those kids. “There were two of them,” he said. “The little girl was just a bitty thing, about four years old. The boy was older. I only saw him from the back and at a distance. Not to mention he’d just knocked me over the head with a tree branch,” he added wryly. “But he was maybe eleven or twelve? Hard to say. Both of them were blondish, but the boy’s hair was a lot lighter, had that sun-bleached look.” He sighed, feeling helpless. “That’s all I can think of. Last I saw, they were headed toward the western side of the settlement.”

Bryce made some notes on his PADD. “Did you see anyone else with them? Maybe an older kid?”

Leo shook his head. “Just the two of them. And like I said, I didn’t get a good look at the boy. I suppose he could have been older. Why? Are you looking for someone specific?”

The lieutenant glanced up and seemed to assess McCoy for a moment. “How much of a briefing did you IAR people get before you arrived?”

“Enough, I imagine. They told us about the spoiled crops and subsequent food shortage. How Kodos decided that there was only enough food left for half the population and ordered the execution of half the colonists rather than call for Federation assistance,” he murmured, feeling his throat close up remembering the brief he read. “He used some outdated eugenics theory to decide who was to live and who was to die.” Leo took another gulp of his coffee. “And I know something about this planet’s composition interferes with tracking sensors, so you’re stuck sending out search parties. Gotta say, I was pretty surprised to see those kids at all, though,” he admitted. “I thought children would have been classified with the elderly as not...” He ground his teeth together, unable to complete the thought.

“You’re right,” Bryce told him. “I’m guessing you didn’t hear about the distress call that Starfleet received.”

“Sure I did. That’s what broke this all open, right? Someone finally rebelled and got word out.”

Bryce’s eyebrows shot up. “Not ‘someone,’ McCoy. A bunch of kids. Somehow they survived despite being on the death list, hid out somewhere. One of them broke into the governor’s mansion and sent the distress call himself. Near as we can determine, Kodos decided the jig was up then and locked all his closest advisors into the mansion before flaming the place. But we have no idea what happened to the kid who notified us, or how many other kids survived. Those two you saw today? First sign of anyone under eighteen since we arrived.”

Leo exhaled sharply. “How do you know it was a kid who contacted you?”

“Said so in the message. Said the kids were taking over because none of the adults were doing anything about the situation. That Kodos was an insane butcher, slaughtering colonists he considered unworthy. No mention of the scale of things, mind you,” he added, “but then the message broke off at the end. It’s likely the sender was caught and killed, but officially, we’re still holding out hope.”

“Jesus,” Leo breathed. “So you don’t know how many of them there were?”

“No, but at least one or two have to be fairly grown to have planned how to get word to Starfleet.”

“There must be records of the colonists, some clue as to how many kids lived here to begin with, and how old they were.”

Bryce frowned. “McCoy, those records don’t mean squat. We’ve been digging bodies out of mass graves in the forest for days, some of them completely unidentifiable. It’ll be months before we can determine who survived and who didn’t.”

“What about...you said Kodos made a list.”

“He did. Most every survivor we’ve questioned so far has mentioned it. But it’s not like Kodos left it lying around for us to find.”

Leo stared down at the cold remains of his lunch, no longer hungry. “Let me know if there’s anything else I can do, Lieutenant Bryce.”

“I will, McCoy. And thanks for your help.”

“I just wish I knew more.”

~*~

Leo could not stop thinking about what Lieutenant Bryce had told him. For the rest of the day, as he completed his shift and later as he helped inventory medical supplies, he remembered Bryce’s story of the kid who sent the distress call to Starfleet. What had such a brave, reckless feat entailed? Most off-planet communications systems had been destroyed during the first days after Kodos declared martial law. How had kids gotten access to the governor’s mansion and the computer equipment needed to alert the authorities? What had they suffered for their efforts? Could they have come out of it alive? Most of all, Leo marveled that any kid could be so strong when everyone around them--the adults they should have been able to turn to for protection--simply stood by and allowed terror to reign throughout the colony, doing nothing to stop it.

His thoughts made for a restless night. Leo tossed and turned long after going to bed, only falling asleep once the first light of morning had crept into the tent. When his alarm sounded just a few hours later, he woke with a groan, tired and achy. Technically he had enough time before he went on duty to roll over and catch a bit more sleep, but the thought barely crossed his mind. He dragged himself up and got ready for his day, just as he had each morning since arriving on Tarsus.

As Leo was about to head to breakfast, he heard Rafe call out to him from his bunk, just pushing himself upright. “You’re going back out there, aren’t you?”

Leo just shrugged. He wasn’t certain himself what he was going to do.

“Just be careful, mate.”

Breakfast was the usual hurried affair, his mind preoccupied. At some time during the night, Leo’s thoughts had turned from Lieutenant Bryce’s story and what he himself had experienced the day before to how he was going to help those children. He understood Bryce wasn’t asking him to do anything, that all he had wanted was information. Likewise he knew that as an IAR volunteer, he had his assignments to fulfill and that what he was doing was important, even if sometimes it seemed like he should be doing so much more. But he felt some sort of connection to the two children. He was sure that the little girl would have spoken to him if the boy had not appeared when he did. As for the boy, well, it was ridiculous to claim any understanding of him. Leo hadn’t even seen his face. But he knew the boy had been caring for the girl; whatever their relationship, he felt protective toward her. If Leo could convince the boy that he wanted to help them, maybe, just maybe, the kid would let him.

As was his habit, Leo went and refilled his coffee mug after he’d finished eating, but this time he also stopped by the self-serve replicator where the volunteers generally grabbed quick snacks over the course of the day. He ordered a dozen apples, loading them quickly into one of the take-out sacks intended for anyone working through mealtime.

The previous day, Leo had wandered through the settlement in an aimless fashion. Today he made straight for the spot where he had seen the little girl. He didn’t expect her to be in the same place, but he remembered which direction the boy had gone from there and it seemed a logical place to start. The air was colder than it had been earlier in the week, and Leo was glad for the warm mug in his hand as he walked along, the bag of apples balanced in one arm like a baby. He stuck to the middle of the street, moving slowly as he reached the place where he had fallen, eyes darting cautiously from side to side, but everything remained eerily still, the only sound that of his own feet quietly brushing the pavement.

When he finally reached the corner where the kids had disappeared, he turned and followed the new street as it stretched out toward the edge of the town. It was in far worse condition than the streets he had passed--shop windows broken or boarded up, hover-cars abandoned in the middle of the road, debris piled along the narrow sidewalks. Leo’s first thought was that it was a depressing sight; the second, that there were plenty of places for a couple of children to hide.

“Hello?” he called softly. “Anyone there?” He slowed his pace to a crawl. He felt ridiculous talking to thin air, knowing there was a good chance that the kids were long gone and no one was listening. Still, he had to try.

“My name’s Leo,” he continued. “I’m one of the volunteers here to help. That’s all. If you’re listening, please come out. I just want to make sure you’re all right.”

He paused, glancing around, trying to determine if any one place looked more likely to be inhabited. It was impossible to tell, though. Everything around him pointed toward abandonment, not life. Finally he settled on a stoop that seemed cleaner than most and gingerly propped the bag of apples on the top step. Then he stepped back, hoping against all hope that someone was watching, paying attention to his actions.

“Okay,” he called out, trying to keep his voice calm while also projecting along the deserted streets. “I get that you don’t know if you can trust me. But I want to help anyway, even if y’all are too scared to come out, so I’m just going to leave these here.” He reached in and pulled an apple out of the bag, holding it high before he lifted it to his mouth and took a giant bite. “See? Just apples.” He chewed and swallowed, then took another bite as he slowly walked away, leaving the bag behind.

Hours later, after working his shift, Leo returned to the stoop. The street was still deserted, but the bag of apples was gone.

~*~

Each morning, Leo took a sack of food out with him and left it on the stoop. He was careful not to be seen by anyone from IAR or Starfleet, for fear they would follow him and attempt to take the children in by force under the guise of their best interests. Leo understood that as much as the children needed good wholesome food and a safe place to sleep, they needed to learn how to trust again. That meant he had to respect their need to stay hidden away until they were ready to come out on their own.

He tried hard to provide some sort of variety in the food, but he was limited by what was easy to transport and hardy enough to last if it remained on the steps for a few hours. Mostly he stuck to apples and fruit-filled nutrition bars, plus something that resembled old fashioned beef jerky and didn’t taste too bad even if it did look like you should upholster something with it. The food was always gone when he returned the next day, and on the third morning the empty sacks started to appear, folded neatly and weighted down by a small rock. Leo smiled at the sight, reassured that at least the food had been taken by colonists rather than stray animals--a possibility that had crossed his mind the previous evening.

~*~

Ten days after Leo arrived, the first batch of colonists was evacuated by shuttle to a nearby starship--a smaller, faster class than he himself had traveled to Tarsus on--that would transport those with the most pressing medical conditions to the closest star base. Leo was alerted to a partial assignment shift for the day, and so spent most of his morning escorting patients to the shuttle and double checking that their possessions were tagged for follow-up transport. No one expected the colonists to return to Tarsus IV.

It was a rewarding experience, seeing the colonists off the planet where they had been subjected to such suffering. Leo was glad to participate in the first phase of evacuation, felt as if they were finally doing what they were there to accomplish. But the change in schedule also made him restless; he’d been forced to report for duty earlier than usual and was due back at the intake tent immediately after the shuttle took off. There had been no time to load up on provisions, let alone to take them out to his usual drop point, and as things stood he would be lucky to steal half an hour to make the run. He managed by leaving as soon as the last colonist under his care had boarded the shuttle, not even waiting for the doors to close before he pulled Rafe aside and whispered “Cover for me,” then took off toward the mess tent.

Standing in the empty street fifteen minutes later, Leo felt guilt settle over him like a heavy winter coat. He put the food on the steps as always, painfully aware that he was more than four hours late. Had they thought he’d forgotten? Given up on them? Or had they somehow seen the preparations for the shuttle launch and understood that he had been delayed? Hoping he hadn’t undone all his previous efforts, Leo turned and hurried back toward the relief tents, only slowing his pace when he left the settlement for the open area claimed by Starfleet and IAR. He strode past the HQ tent and the mess, then circled around to his regular station.

Leo’s first indication that something was wrong was the security detail posted at the entrance to the intake tent. Both men were low-ranking Starfleet, at least based on the scarcity of gold on their cuffs, but he didn’t recognize either of them. They nodded as he approached, making no move to stop him, so he merely nodded back and pushed past the tent flap and into the chaos within.

Someone was shouting; Leo could hear the steady stream of cursing and hoarse cries as soon as he entered the tent, though the sound was filtering to him from somewhere beyond the screen dividing processing from the examination area. Another half dozen of Starfleet’s finest occupied every square inch of his work area, backs to Leo, broad red-clad shoulders blocking his view of pretty much anything else. Not wanting to startle anyone--security meant phasers, after all--he cleared his throat to make his presence known. When that proved too quiet a method, he called out for Rafe, knowing his co-worker should be there somewhere.

“McCoy, that you?” The questioning voice was familiar, though it wasn’t Rafe. “Let him through.”

The security personnel parted before Leo, and suddenly he could see the state of his work area. One of the two tables had been overturned and PADDs littered the ground. A chair was smashed to pieces, bits of debris scattered underfoot. In the midst of the destruction, Rafe attended to one of the security officers, using a dermal regenerator on what appeared to be a bite mark on his forearm.

But what really caught Leo’s attention were the kids. Lieutenant Bryce stood before him--his had been the familiar voice--holding the little girl from the settlement. Just beyond them sat a small boy with a mop of red hair and a face full of freckles, his cheeks stained with a mix of dirt and tears. A young woman in security reds had a--comforting? Restraining?--hand on his shoulder. The child didn’t look much older than the little girl. There was no sign of the older boy Leo had seen before, but he had a frightening suspicion that he knew the source of the constant cries and protestation from the far end of the tent.

“Bryce, what’s going on?” Leo asked.

At the sound of Leo’s voice, the little girl--whose face had been pressed into Bryce’s collar--raised her head and turned toward him. “Apple man,” she murmured, immediately releasing her hold on Bryce and reaching for him.

Surprised, Leo automatically took the child. She clung to him instantly, arms and legs wrapping around him monkey-like, face burrowing into his chest, her soft, matted hair tickling his neck. “Hey there, sweetheart,” he murmured quietly, one arm supporting her bottom while he stroked her back soothingly with his free hand.

Bryce’s brows rose. “You two know each other?” he asked, a smirk flirting with the corners of his mouth.

“Let’s just say we’ve met,” Leo muttered. He shifted the girl’s slight weight, lifting her up so he could peer into her face. “You okay? Wanna tell me your name now?”

Big brown eyes, lashes laced with tears, blinked up at him. She nodded slowly, then leaned forward and whispered in his ear. “Liza.”

Leo smiled at her. “That’s a real pretty name.”

Liza worried her bottom lip between her teeth. “They’re hurting Jim,” she whispered.

“Aw, darlin’,” Leo sighed. No need to ask who Jim was. “No one here wants to hurt anyone, I promise. Can you stay here a minute and I’ll go find out what’s happening?” When her little arms tightened around him, he gave her a quick squeeze in return. “I’ll be right back. Can you be a brave girl and stay with my friend Rafe?” He glanced across at his co-worker, who had finished with his task and was watching them.

Rafe took his cue and stepped forward. “How about we sit over here with your friend Kevin, okay?” He dragged the only other intact chair over toward the little boy.

Liza looked back at Leo, then to Rafe and nodded. Leo quickly passed her to the other man. Without so much as glancing at the security officers surrounding him, or at Bryce, who seemed content to allow Leo to take over, he headed for the examination area in search of the mysterious Jim.

He soon discovered most of the examination cubicles were empty, which explained the lack of intervention with the security presence out front, but of course there would have been a delay in the daily assessment of colonists with virtually everyone preparing for the first wave of the evacuation. The intake tent was not particularly large, however, and following the sounds of confrontation was enough to lead Leo to the next-to-last exam room and the occupants he sought. The sight had him clenching his fists at his sides in an effort to control his rapidly rising temper.

Two Starfleet security officers held a skinny blond boy pinned to the ground just inches from the porto-bed. As Leo had suspected, the boy was the same one he had seen with Liza before, judging by the worn blue shirt, white-blond hair, and bony frame. Despite the situation and his near emaciation, the child had lost none of his fight, though his voice seemed to have all but given out on him. He croaked out language Leo had only learned at university, even as he wriggled and kicked and struggled ineffectively to get free, though his most pressing concern appeared to be the hypo that a third man in scrubs was attempting to get near him.

The sight of that third man--his bunk mate Ben Klein--was what finally snapped Leo’s patience. His first instinct was to drag Klein out of the tent and punch him in the jaw, but instead he found himself channeling his own father, using the tone he would apply as head of surgery when dressing down idiotic medical staff--usually just before firing them.

“Good God, man, what do you think you’re doing?” he demanded, voice booming.

All four faces swiveled in his direction, but Leo had eyes only for Klein. The other medical student was red in the face, sweat dripping from his brow as if he’d gone five rounds on a blistering day. “McCoy,” he breathed out, sounding strangely relieved. “What does it look like? I’m trying to sedate the patient.”

“And that takes a security detail and brute force?” Leo demanded.

“He bit someone!” Klein blasted back. “Won’t let us near him, won’t talk to us. What would you have me do?”

“Damn it, he’s a scared kid, Ben. Show a little compassion.”

Klein let out a snort. “Compassion, right. Let him try to take a bite out of you and see how much compassion you feel.”

Glancing over at Jim, Leo was surprised to discover he was no longer struggling, although the security officers still had a firm grasp on his arms. He watched Leo warily, and when Leo reached up and prodded the now-healed spot on his head, his blue eyes widened, though whether from surprise or fear or something else, Leo could not have said. Instead he shifted his gaze back to Klein.

“Who’s supposed to be doc on duty?” he asked. “Puri?”

“No, Sheila, but she got delayed and asked me to cover until she got here,” Klein muttered with obvious resentment.

Leo held out his hand, motioning for the hypo. “Give me that thing and go track her down.”

“He’s all yours.” Klein smacked the hypo into his outstretched palm and left without a second glance. A harsh “good riddance” came drifting back.

Now Leo allowed himself to turn back to Jim and his captors. He gave the kid a long assessing look, aware that he was eyeing the hypo in Leo’s hand. Making a decision, he swiftly disarmed the device and set it down on a nearby tray. Nodding at the Starfleet officers, he motioned toward the boy.

“You two can let him up now.”

The officers traded a quick glance. “Sir,” one of them began, “if we release him, he’s just going to bolt.”

Leo returned his gaze to Jim. He had relaxed perceptibly when it became clear Leo had no plans to resume the fight to sedate him. He was obviously still wary and even a bit defensive, but beyond that he just looked exhausted, in a way that had Leo questioning his earlier estimation of his age. This was no scared little kid. There was an ageless look in his eyes, and while Leo knew he could blame some of that on what he had seen in recent months, he suspected that it went deeper. Maybe he would run, and maybe he’d even get away, but somehow Leo didn’t think so.

“I’ll take responsibility,” he told the security team, working to maintain his father’s strong, self-assured voice, with just a hint of a sharp edge. “I’m sure you have better things to do right now than man-handle a kid.”

The Starfleet officers looked no less reluctant to release the boy, but after another shared look and a brief shrug on the part of the one who had spoken, they both, very slowly, let go of the boy’s arms. The moment he was free, the kid scrambled backwards on hands and heels so he was curled up in the corner formed by the bed and the partition. He wrapped his arms around his bent legs and hugged them to his chest, face hidden against his knees.

“Go on,” Leo continued. “We’ll be fine here.”

“Sir, we can--” began one of the men, halting when Leo held up a hand.

“Look, there’s another half dozen of you people out front. Just go out there. And when the doc gets here, send her on back.”

“Yes, sir.” The pair turned and left, and if they didn’t seem as anxious to depart as Klein had, they certainly were in no hurry to stick around.

Grateful no one had thought to question his authority, Leo let out a long sigh and turned to the kid. He was still huddled on the floor, but it was clear he was listening to the proceedings, his entire body stiff and alert.

“Wouldn’t you be more comfortable sitting on the bed?” Leo asked him. Thin shoulders raised and lowered, but that was all the response he got. “Suit yourself, kid, but I’m sitting down.” He crossed and sat at the foot of the bed, putting himself closer to the boy yet still far enough that he would have to shift to grab him. He watched a blue eye peer cautiously out from under one scrawny arm.

There were a lot of things Leo wanted to say, but picking a place to start was proving harder than he had anticipated. He knew it was important to tread lightly, not to push, especially given the scene he had walked in on just moments earlier. He rubbed the back of his neck with his palm and let out another long sigh. Might as well just dive in and get the hard part over with, he figured.

“I’m sorry about this morning. They changed my shift and I couldn’t make it at the normal time. That’s where I was coming from when I got here--I’d been out in the settlement.”

Another shrug.

The thought that weighed on him most heavily pushed its way to the surface. “Was that how they found you?” he asked, feeling tentative. “I wouldn’t have...” He trailed off, unsure how to phrase what he wanted to tell the kid.

This time, both eyes peered up at him. “Wasn’t your fault,” Jim rasped.

Leo frowned at the ruined voice. “Let me get you something to drink,” he offered. “Water?” He knew the kid needed to eat, but now that he was here Leo didn’t want to burden his system with anything too heavy before he had determined his condition. He made to rise and was startled by the panic that swept over Jim’s face.

“No, don’t go!”

“I won’t,” Leo soothed instantly. “I’m not leaving. Look, we keep water rations right here.” He moved slowly to the small cabinet where they stored supplies and a stock of bottled water fortified with electrolytes. Taking two, he reached out and set one down within easy reach of the kid, then resumed his seat. “Okay?”

Jim nodded, taking the bottle somewhat hesitantly. He watched as Leo opened his own and took a long gulp before doing the same, ultimately draining half the contents before setting the bottle back down, though he maintained his grip on it. He sucked the moisture off his bottom lip, then rubbed the back of his free hand over his mouth.

“Better?” Leo asked quietly.

He nodded again.

“Good. So, they didn’t find you because of me, huh? You feel like talking about what did happen?”

A one-shouldered shrug.

“How about I talk, then? That all right?”

Blue eyes stared at him for a long moment before Jim nodded. He picked up his water and took another swallow.

“Okay. So my name’s Leo. Well, Leonard, actually, Leonard McCoy, but my family calls me Leo. I’m with IAR, you know what that is?”

A nod.

“Yeah, so, I volunteered for the summer. I’m in medical school at Ole Miss--that’s University of Mississippi--but I’m on break. Figured they’d send me somewhere close to home.” He rolled his eyes. “Not big on space travel. Anyway, that’s how come I’m here.” He’d let the kid draw his own conclusions as to why Tarsus specifically. For now he wanted to keep things light. Besides, he didn’t think Jim was stupid.

Silence stretched out between them. Leo was at something of a loss. He knew all the things he wanted to ask: Do you have family still alive on the planet? Family back on Earth? When was the last time you ate? Were you on Kodos’s list? How did you survive? He also knew how unwise it would be to ask any of those things. Unfortunately that left him with very little to talk about, given the kid’s own reticence. Not that Leo blamed him.

He leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees and rubbing at his eyes. “Look, I get that you don’t trust us. Starfleet, IAR, any of us. I imagine adults in general aren’t too high on your list right now,” he grumbled. “But we need to check you out, see what you need in the way of treatment, nutritional supplements and such, okay?” He glanced sideways at the kid, eyebrows raised.

Jim’s eyes darted toward the cubicle’s entrance. Stared for a long moment. Finally he looked back at Leo. “What happened to...there were two little kids with me,” he murmured.

“Liza and Kevin, right?” Leo asked. “They’re fine. Just getting looked over, like I told you.”

“Can I see them?” If he was surprised to learn that Leo had found out the other kids’ names, he didn’t show it. Nor had he offered his own name yet; somehow Leo was loathe to use it until he was given permission.

“Of course, no one’s keeping them from you. You been taking care of them?”

And that quickly, they were back to the shrugs. Leo sat back and stared at the kid. “So I answer your questions but you don’t answer mine, that it?”

Jim’s head dropped back down to his knees. “I tried to take care of them. Wasn’t anyone else.”

“You mean no one who would help?”

He shook his head, shaggy blond hair falling down over his eyes. “Wasn’t safe in town. After,” he said simply. “So a few of us hid out. The others...they were mostly too little to do much but keep their heads down.”

It was the most Jim had said and every word tightened the knot in Leo’s stomach. “So you were in charge.”

One shoulder rose and fell. “Not in charge. I went out to find food and stuff, that’s all.”

“Well, I’d say you did a good job. From what I could tell, neither of them were near as bad off as some of the folks I’ve seen.”

Jim let his head fall back against the partition and Leo watched as a flicker of doubt passed over the kid’s face before his expression hardened, the watchful mask falling back into place. Then suddenly he tensed from head to toe, drawing back into himself in front of Leo’s eyes as, an instant later, the sound of light, quick footsteps approached.

“It’s okay,” Leo murmured as he stood, instinctively putting himself between the boy and the open doorway. Though he doubted there would be trouble, he was relieved when Dr. Sheila Adonai appeared rather than more Starfleet muscle. “Hey, Doc,” he said. “Klein find you?”

Doc Sheila--so dubbed to distinguish her from her husband, Dr. Nicholas Adonai--graced him with a warm if somewhat harried smile. “He did, though I can see his dire ramblings held about as much truth as I’d expected.” She glanced past Leo toward where Jim remained huddled in his corner. “He mentioned some sort of devil child,” she continued under her breath. “I take it that’s him?”

Leo rolled his eyes. “Klein has the bedside manner of a deranged boar,” he grumbled. “The kid’s pretty wrecked, but he’s no demon. Just needs a little patience and some honest dealing.”

Sheila sighed softly. “Yes, I’m sure that would be a novelty. Let’s see what we can do.” She stepped neatly around Leo and entered the room, careful to keep well back from Jim. Leo turned and followed her in, both curious and concerned to see Jim’s reaction, and afraid he could already sense the beginnings of panic from him.

“Remember how I said we just needed to check you out, make sure you’re okay?” Leo began swiftly. “This is Doc Sheila and she’s a real nice woman as well as an excellent doctor.”

Jim’s bright eyes darted to Leo, his expression one of betrayal. “I thought you were going to do it.”

“I’m just a med student, kid, not a doctor. Doc Sheila will take very good care of you, I promise.”

Sheila had paused a fair distance from Jim and stood perfectly still during this exchange. Now she crouched a bit stiffly. “I just want to determine what you need, all right? What kind of vitamins and minerals you’ve missed out on, if you’re dehydrated, if you have any illnesses incubating, injuries that need treatment.”

Jim shook his head, looking mutinous.

Leo inched past Sheila and dropped back down on the foot of the bed. “Look, kid, Sheila’s not going to hurt you. She’ll tell you just what she’s doing every step of the way, and if you don’t understand something she’ll explain it. And while she checks you out, I can go see what’s happening with Liza and Kevin, make sure they’re doing okay, too. How’s that sound?”

Jim continued to glare up at him, but under that angry exterior, Leo could sense a deeper fear. He turned to Sheila, unsure how far he could push on Jim’s behalf.

“How about if McCoy stays during the exam?” Sheila asked Jim. “He can stand right here the whole time. Would that be better?”

Jim’s expression relaxed slightly but he continued to look at Leo, clearly holding out for an additional concession. Leo scrubbed a hand over his face. Somehow he knew where this was going.

Sheila stood awkwardly, wincing as her knees popped. “Fine,” she said. “If it’s that important to you. McCoy, go ahead and check him out, but if there are any red flags you come get me immediately, understood?”

“What?” He hadn’t even opened his mouth yet to request he be allowed to treat the kid.

Sheila ignored him, turning her gaze back on Jim. “McCoy isn’t a doctor yet, it’s true, but he’s one of the most promising medical students it’s been my privilege to work with. I suspect because he comes from a long line of doctors who quizzed him on treatment protocol at the dinner table,” she added, sounding amused. “You have good instincts, young man.” She winked at Leo, whose cheeks began to warm. Turning her attention back to Jim, Sheila’s expression grew more intent. “Please understand, however, that if you have any serious issues then I will have to become involved.”

Jim nodded slightly.

“All right then,” Sheila said. “I’m going to go see about those two little ones out front, shall I?”

“Thanks, Doc,” Leo said, standing.

Sheila turned to leave, giving his shoulder a quick squeeze. “Thank you, McCoy. You know what to look for. Let me know if you need anything.” And with that she was gone.

Leo turned back to Jim. “Okay, kid, up on the bed,” he told him, shaking his head. “Let’s see what’s what.”

Jim shifted slowly, using his arms to brace against the floor as he folded his legs underneath himself and eased upright. Leo watched his progress, the pain etched on his face despite his struggle to conceal it, and felt the knot in his stomach return full force. Instinct overrode all his training and in three strides he was dropping to his knees beside the kid to help him up. Jim flinched at Leo’s proximity but didn’t shy away.

“Easy there,” Leo murmured, slipping his hands beneath Jim’s elbows for support. “Nice and slow.” He rose, lifting and turning until Jim was seated on the edge of the bed, hands braced against the frame. “There you go,” Leo continued. “Just sit tight, okay?”

“’kay.”

Leo barely caught the soft response. Swearing under his breath at the idiocy of the universe, he turned and began going through the supply cupboard, reaching automatically for the tricorder and thumbing the dial to fire up the power. When he turned back to Jim, he saw the boy had shifted to sit more squarely on the porto-bed. One hand still held firmly to the frame while the other picked nervously at the coverings.

The tricorder beeped softly to indicate it was charged. Jim glanced up at the noise, catching Leo’s gaze. His pupils were blown, huge and dark, surrounded by a bright blue rim, and he chewed nervously on his bottom lip.

“Hey, relax, kid. I’m just going to get a preliminary reading.” Leo keyed in parameters and began tracking the tricorder over Jim’s body, starting near his head and working gradually down the length of his torso, frowning at the screen as it recorded a litany of ailments and straining biological systems. Not that Leo was all that shocked at the results. Now that he was closer to the kid--and Jim wasn’t curled up in a ball on the floor--it was obvious that he was in far worse shape that the little ones, or even than most of the adult colonists he’d seen over the past days. Severe malnutrition and dehydration, organs slowing down, brittle bones. Plus there was deep tissue damage that suggested someone had beaten him, and not that long ago, as well as indications of sexual abuse. Leo winced. It was a miracle the kid was even upright, and when Leo thought about how he’d obviously fought against Starfleet security, well, he frankly couldn’t believe it, even having witnessed the tail end of the altercation in person. The kid must have been utterly terrified to work up enough adrenaline for that sort of struggle.

The tricorder beeped once more, indicating the end of its calculations. Leo exhaled sharply at the final tally of damage to the boy. And that didn’t even touch upon resulting emotional trauma.

“I guess I’m in shit shape, huh?”

Leo huffed out a laugh, though there was no humor behind it. “Yeah, that’s one way of putting it. How old are you, anyway?” When silence met his question, he simply glanced up from the tricorder and glared at Jim, one eyebrow hiking upward. “Kid?”

Blue eyes blinked slowly. “Thirteen.”

Leo nodded, his heart aching. Hardly more than a child, for all his bravado. It actually explained a lot. Boy should have been in the middle of a major growth spurt, but clearly the lack of food and the stress on his body had severely curtailed his development.

“You haven’t asked my name.” The statement was hesitant but curious.

Leo shrugged. “Figured you’d tell me when you were ready. Right now I’m more concerned with getting you healed up and fed.” He grabbed a PADD and attached the tricorder, setting it to sync the data. “How have you been handling the food I’ve been dropping off. Keeping it down?”

“I couldn’t really eat most of it.” He sounded almost apologetic.

“Upsetting your stomach? Too heavy?”

“I’m kind of allergic to a bunch of stuff.”

Both of Leo’s eyebrows jerked up. “Food?”

“Food, meds, lot of things. The apples were okay, but... well, everyone liked them,” he finished quietly.

Leo pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a sigh. “You said something before about the little kids. You didn’t just mean Liza and Kevin, did you? I’m guessing you had a bunch of kids you were helping out, and you were making sure they all ate while you went without. How many more kids are out there?”

Jim held his gaze but remained stubbornly silent.

He decided to try a different tack. “You know what all your allergies are?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” Leo unplugged the PADD from the tricorder and held it out to him. “Make me a list of everything you can think of. Food, drugs, environmentals. Can you do that?”

The kid took the PADD, nodding.

“Good. I’ll be right back.”

“Where ya going?”

“To get you something simple to eat. Broth safe?”

A nod.

“Alrighty. Stay put, understand?”

Another nod.

“Right.” He turned to leave when the kid called him back.

“What else? You want crackers too?”

A brief shake of the head. “It’s...Jim. You can call me Jim.”

Leo felt the smile blooming on his face. “Okay, Jim. I’ll be back in a minute.”

~*~

Part Two

Foiled at every turn

2012-04-10T19:59:05Z

Read a story where two characters keep bonding over pints of ice cream. Guess what I want now? What's worse is I need to make the pilgrimage to pick up my work mail, and there's a Ben & Jerry's not very far from the UPS store. Still, a scoop of B&J there is far better than buying an entire pint (or quart!) for the freezer, right?

FIC: Can't Judge a Book by Its Cover (Star Trek AOS/You've Got Mail! AU) Epilogue

2012-03-12T03:27:57Z

Title: Can’t Judge a Book by Its Cover
Author: Emluv
Fandom/Spoilers: Star Trek AOS/AU set in the world of You’ve Got Mail!
Characters: Kirk/McCoy with assorted supporting cast
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Some swearing; suggestions of both heterosexual and homosexual relationships.
Disclaimer: Star Trek is owned by the Roddenberry estate, Paramount Pictures, and probably a few others who are not me. You’ve Got Mail! is owned by Warner Bros. Pictures, and probably a few others who are also not me. No profit made, no infringement intended.
Archive/Distribution: Please ask.
Date: March 11, 2012

See Part One for Author's Notes.

Epilogue

~*~

The soft ring of the telephone out in the living room barely permeated Jim’s comfortable sleep. They had the ringer on the lowest setting--not silenced, since the time they forgot to turn it back on and the doorman refused to let the pizza guy upstairs without permission--just loud enough to hear around the apartment but faint enough to sleep through unless someone was incredibly persistent.

However, Jim would never sleep through the sound of Winona’s voice streaming through his answering machine.

“Jimmy, this is fair warning! I’m at LaGuardia, I’ve got my bags, and when I hang up this phone I’m going to step outside and get into a cab. I figure you’ve got forty-five minutes from then, at best, before I’m knocking at your door. See you soon, baby!”

“Crap.” He burrowed into his pillow and let out a quiet groan. Then he set about extricating himself from the complicated tangle of blankets and heavy limbs--the latter belonging to Bones, who had a habit of sleeping draped over him, an arm curled around his waist and a leg over one of Jim’s, as if he was afraid Jim might make a run for it in the middle of the night. Given that, with the exception of that initial marathon weekend of sex--which lasted over forty-eight hours and involved Jim calling out sick for the first time ever, prompting a return call from a disbelieving Spock at quite an inconvenient moment--it had taken three months for Jim to get Bones to stay the night, he found the man’s clinginess ironic.

He rolled carefully onto his back and pressed a kiss to the bare tan shoulder closest to him, smiling when the furrow in Bones’s brow smoothed slightly and he made a contented rumbling sound. The man really was just a giant teddy bear. Jim slipped his leg free, then angled his body toward the floor and in a practiced move lifted Leonard’s arm so he could sneak out from under it. Then he tucked his pillow in where his body had been and dropped another kiss on top of his lover’s head, content in the knowledge that he’d get to sleep for at least fifteen more minutes while Jim showered and dressed.

When he emerged in a cloud of steam a short while later, wearing clean jeans and rubbing at his damp hair with a towel, Bones had shifted entirely onto his side of the bed and had both arms around Jim’s pillow. Jim snickered.

“Hey there, lazy Bones. Time to wake up.”

A quiet grunt, half muffled against the bedding, was the only reply.

Jim tossed his towel into the bathroom and went to sit on the edge of the bed. He ruffled Bones’s hair, petting at the cowlicks. “Come on. Rise and shine.”

One hazel eye opened and peered up at him. “I take it that I wasn’t actually dreaming when I heard your mother’s voice announcing she was on her way from the airport?”

“’Fraid not. She’ll be here in less than half an hour. You can take off before she gets here, or hole up in here if you don’t want to deal with her, but I figured you’d want the option. I know it’s kind of an ambush.”

“Nah, s’fine.” He rolled onto his back and blinked sleepily up at Jim. “Thought she was going to a hotel, though.”

“You and me both. Something must have happened. Didn’t sound like she has Steve with her.”

“Stephan.”

Jim rolled his eyes. “Whatever. If you’d lived through all of her husbands, you wouldn’t be able to keep them straight either. Anyway, I’m going to run down to the corner for bagels and be back in ten minutes.”

Leonard nodded. “’kay. I’ll grab a shower, try to make myself presentable.”

Jim leaned over and kissed him, nipping lightly at his bottom lip. “Would be easier if you’d just move in, you know.”

“I’ve got plenty of clean clothes here.”

“Not the point.” Jim kissed him again. “Okay. I’m going.”

Leonard arched one brow. “Like that?”

Jim shook his head and stood up. “Smart ass.” He grabbed the shirt he’d taken out of the dresser and tugged it over his head, and if he took a little longer pulling it down over his torso than he would have if he was alone, well, it was worth the sight of the smirk on Bones’s face when Jim emerged and grinned at him. He shoved his feet into an old pair of sneakers, scooped up his keys and wallet, and was out the door.

~*~

Still rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Leonard dragged himself out of bed and into the bathroom. He would never be a morning person, but he found himself far more able to face the day lately, and he’d be fooling himself if he claimed that was due to anything other than Jim Kirk’s presence in his life. But that didn’t mean he was quite ready to take the plunge and move in with the man.

Jim had first broached the subject several weeks before. It was like he was waging a war in stages, moving on to the next campaign as soon as he’d conquered the desired territory with the last. Leonard had resisted spending the night with Jim at first because it felt too soon. They fell into bed so fast after he finally learned who Jim really was--and it had been fantastic--but it also felt like they were jumping into a full-on committed relationship before they’d even dated. And damned if that didn’t make him sound like some eighteenth century damsel demanding courtship, but he didn’t want to screw things up by making assumptions. Some things were worth takin’ slow, doin’ right. And while Jim had pouted and done his best to convince Leonard to stay in bed just a little longer each time, he had been good natured about Leonard’s insistence on leaving and about going home himself when they were at Leonard’s place.

Likewise, he’d been willing to back off when Joanna came to visit, to take things at Leonard’s pace and not insist on spending every day with them. It had been so long since Leonard had seen Jo-Jo, and much as he’d wanted to share every minute of that time with Jim, he’d also wanted to be selfish about his time with his daughter. It helped that when he did introduce them, they got on like a couple of peas in a pod. But it had also been early days in their relationship, so they were still used to seeing each other only a couple of days a week and saying goodbye at the end of the night.

Far more difficult had been just last month, when Jim’s sister-in-law gave birth to baby Thomas and Jim had Peter come to stay for a few days. By that point, Leonard was at Jim’s five nights out of seven, so when he insisted it was only right he head back to his own apartment for the duration, it had nearly sparked their first serious fight as a couple. Leonard insisted that Peter was too young to be dealing with confusing topics like his uncle sleeping with men, while Jim insisted that Peter was too young to think about it much one way or another. Sam had finally put a stop to the discussion by making it perfectly clear that he assumed Leonard would be there and that he had no concerns whatsoever about the pair of them watching his son.

Maybe it was the extended domesticity of the two of them living there with Peter underfoot, taking him places together, but as soon as Peter went home to his parents, Jim asked Leonard to move in for good. And while Leonard hadn’t refused, he hadn’t exactly said yes, either. Officially, he was still thinking about the offer. But he wasn’t surprised that Jim continued to nudge and coax and encourage at every opportunity. It was actually endearing when it wasn’t driving him crazy.

Showered and dressed, Leonard was just starting the coffee when the door opened and Jim came in carrying a bag of bagels and fixings as well as the Sunday papers. He dropped the latter on the coffee table and continued into the kitchen with the food.

“Was beginning to think you got lost,” Leonard mumbled against Jim’s lips as they traded a quick kiss.

“Mmm, toothpaste,” Jim replied, leaning back in, twining his tongue with Leonard’s. “And would I abandon you here with my mother on the way?” he asked, when he finally pulled back.

“Hmm. Maybe. If you thought you could get away with it,” he said, turning to pull down the coffee mugs.

“I couldn’t,” Jim assured him. “If you didn’t take me out, she would. Actually, she’d probably get to me first. You still have a use for me,” he said with a grin, smacking Leonard on the ass.

“Infant.”

“Heh. You love me.” Jim pressed another noisy kiss to his cheek and turned to put the orange juice in the refrigerator. Then the phone rang, the double ring indicating it was the front desk calling, and he headed off to answer.

~*~

Jim stood waiting at the end of the hall, arms crossed, when the elevator door opened revealing his mother and a pile of luggage. He sighed and shook his head. “Something you want to tell me, Ma?”

Winona hefted a smallish bag in each hand and shoved them out of the elevator, one foot propped neatly against the door to keep it from sliding shut. “No one likes a smart mouth, Jimmy. Come give me a hand.”

He stepped forward and pulled the first bags out of the way, then grabbed the two that remained--both considerably larger than the first ones--and started down the hall. “You realize that Sam’s place is hell-and-gone downtown from here, right? I thought the whole reason you were coming to visit was to see the baby and spend time with Petey.”

Winona followed behind with the smaller bags, her long strides easily matching Jim’s own. “Of course, and I will, but is it a crime to want to spend time with you, too?”

“At ten on a Sunday morning? Quite possibly,” Jim grumbled. He bumped the door to the apartment open with his hip and held it while his mother continued inside. Then he dropped the bags where he stood and shut the door.

Winona had stopped as well, though she still held her purse and carry on. “This is lovely, Jimmy. So much natural light.”

“Thanks. Bones! Where are you?” he called, though he was fairly certain Leonard was scouring their bedroom for any evidence of how they’d spent the previous night, as if his mother wasn’t perfectly well aware of her son’s sexual proclivities. So it came as something of a surprise when he appeared in the kitchen doorway.

“Hey, sorry, I was just shoving some of those bagels in the toaster,” he explained, stepping out into the living room.

“Mom, this is Leonard McCoy. Bones, my mother, Winona Kirk.”

Leonard’s brows arched slightly as he came forward to shake Winona’s hand, and it occurred to Jim he had never really told his lover about his mother’s insistence on keeping her first husband’s name. “Ma’am, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Oh, please call me Winona, Leonard? Len?”

“Leonard, please, Winona. Only Jim seems incapable of using it.”

Winona laughed. “Yes, well, Jimmy has a habit of naming things he plans to keep. Although in my experience, it was mostly toads and snails and puppies and the like.”

Jim groaned. “Ma, cut it out. Let’s get your bags into the guest room and then we can have breakfast. How long are you staying, anyway?”

“Jim!” Leonard snapped.

“What? She was supposed to stay in a hotel, not camp out here. It’s a logical question.”

“It’s fine, Leonard. Jim’s right.” She turned to Jim and patted his cheek. “I’m only going to stay a couple of days, baby, and then I’ll move downtown to the hotel. Think you can stand me around for that long?”

Jim took in his mother’s tired blue eyes, the small lines at the corners more defined than the last time he had seen her nearly three years before. “Of course, Ma,” he said quietly. He took her bags and headed for the guest room.

~*~

Leonard thought breakfast went pretty well, considering the number of elephants in the room--Jim’s open hostility to his mother, Winona’s sudden appearance, the absence of her husband or any explanation regarding his whereabouts. They’d exhausted the topic of Sam and his growing family, then moved on to business, which included Pike Books and how Jim and he had met--since Jim’s lack of regular communication with his mother meant that, while she knew he was now in a relationship, she had never heard the particulars--and branched out to Leonard’s progress on his book.

Winona was warm and gracious, with the same razor-sharp intellect as her son but fewer of the insecurities that Leonard knew often led Jim to show off his smarts. She asked thoughtful questions about his writing and about Joanna, and she seemed genuinely interested in his answers. Jim, for his part, seemed happy to leave the conversation to the two of them, only interjecting occasionally, generally in praise of Leonard. Eventually he excused himself to clean up the breakfast dishes, and then disappeared down the hallway to put fresh linens in the guest room and its adjoining bath.

“Sorry about that,” Leonard murmured when Jim was well out of earshot. “Not sure what’s up with him today.”

Winona smiled at his apology. “I wasn’t a particularly good mother to my boys, Leonard. I’m well aware that whatever difficulties there are in my relationship with Jim, I created myself. There’s no need for you to excuse his behavior. We have a tentative truce at best.”

“Uh, well, he’s told me a little bit about what it was like for him growing up,” he admitted. “But I’m sure you did as well as you could under the circumstances. Can’t have been easy, losing your husband so young.”

Winona tilted her head and studied Leonard for a long moment, her blue eyes less bright but just as assessing as Jim’s. “It wasn’t,” she agreed finally. “I think what was hardest was being unable to truly let go. I tried. For all our sakes, I tried to move on. I’m sure you’ve heard about the parade of husbands,” she said, in such a way that made it clear she was probably quoting Jim. “Sam was old enough to remember George, of course, but Jim was only two days old when he died--I just wanted him to have some sort of father figure. The irony was that none of the men I married could ever fill George Kirk’s shoes,” she added, her smile rueful.

Leonard glanced at the hallway that led to the bedrooms and wondered if Jim was hiding out, or maybe lurking just around the corner, eavesdropping. “You know, since my divorce I’ve thought a lot about my responsibilities to Joanna,” he admitted. “As a father. Part of me considered moving back to Georgia after I closed the store. It made sense to go home, be a part of her life. But the truth is, it would have killed me to leave New York.”

He turned back to find Winona watching him intently. “I’m still a Georgia boy deep down, but I’m not the same man who left home for the big city. And me in Georgia miserable?” He shrugged. “That wouldn’t have done Jo a lick of good. Yes, you’ve got to take care of your kids and put their needs first, but if they’re warm and fed and loved? Well, you’ve done your job and you’ve got needs too.”

“I think you’re a very smart man, Leonard McCoy. I can see why my son loves you so much.”

Leonard felt his face grow warm. “Well now, not entirely sure about that, but I appreciate the sentiment.”

Winona laughed softly. “Oh believe it, Leonard. I know that look he’s sporting.”

Intent on shifting the focus off his own relationship, Leonard just gave a little nod and glanced away. “If you don’t mind my asking, what kept your husband from joining you on this trip?”

“I don’t mind,” she replied, her tone suggesting she recognized his diversionary tactics. “Stephan and I have decided our marriage isn’t working. Well, he’s decided, and I can’t say I blame him. He’s a good man and he deserves better.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Ah, don’t be. I have no idea what I was thinking, marrying him,” she admitted. “The truth is, since George, there was really only one man I ever really believed I could make a life with, and I’ve always known his interest in me was nothing beyond friendly. Besides which, he’s been good to my boys, particularly Jim, and I would never do anything to jeopardize their relationship.”

Leonard felt his eyebrows climbing through his hairline. “Are you by any chance talking about Chris Pike?” He knew all about Pike’s long-held affection for Winona Kirk--remembered Jim’s email about the situation from before they had met each other, and had heard several long, confused diatribes on the subject in the months since.

Winona appeared somewhat surprised, as if her reference to the man’s closeness to Jim hadn’t been a dead giveaway. “Why yes, actually. I suppose it makes sense that you’d know him as well.”

Leonard was vacillating between telling Winona that Pike really was interested in her, and keeping his mouth shut, when Jim came breezing back into the room and clapped his hands. “Okay, all done,” he declared with a bit too much energy, meeting Leonard’s questioning look with his own piercing blue gaze. Ah, Leonard thought. Keep his mouth shut, then.

“So what’s on the agenda for today?” Leonard asked.

“Not sure,” Jim said, turning to his mother. “Did you have plans this afternoon, Ma? Did you want to rest up a bit or should we give Sam a call and head down there?”

“I would like to freshen up a bit,” she admitted. “But then I’d like to do something with the two of you, if you don’t have anything else going on. After all, I’m going to spend most of the week with Sam and Aurelan and the kids. Maybe I can get a tour of that new store of yours?”

“Sure,” Jim agreed easily. “We can do that.”

Winona smiled at his willingness, and Leonard felt a little pang, wondering how difficult it was for the woman all these years, to see so little of her children. “Thank you, baby. Okay, I’ll just be a minute.”

After she’d disappeared into the bedroom, Jim dropped back down in his chair, elbows on the table, head propped in his hands.

“So exactly how much of that did you hear?” Leonard asked quietly.

“Enough,” Jim sighed. “Shit. Now what? Do I tell Chris?”

“You could just tell your mother.”

“Not an option.”

“Come on, Jim, she’s obviously been holding a torch for the guy for almost as long as he’s had feelings for her.”

“Maybe, or maybe it’s just revisionist history, now she’s here in town and about to be between husbands again.”

“That’s a little harsh, don’t you think?”

Jim sighed again and sat back, hands dropping to his lap. “I don’t know. Maybe it is. I just--hell, Bones, I can’t help but feel more loyal to Chris at this point. Does that make me a terrible person? She’s my mother, for crying out loud.”

“Of course it doesn’t make you a terrible person. You and your mom have a lot of history of your own, and you can’t just ignore it. But it seems to me that part of the reason she’s holding back on telling Pike how she feels is concern for you, and the role Pike’s played in your life,” he said.

“Seems to me you already told her that she should live her own life,” Jim pointed out.

“Fair enough.”

“Did you really consider leaving New York?”

Leonard nodded. “For a while. But it was right after I shut the store, and I knew I wasn’t in a good place to make that sort of decision. Besides,” he added with a smirk, “I had too much unfinished business here.”

Jim smiled briefly. “I’m glad you stayed.”

“Me, too.”

And so they still hadn’t settled on a course of action before Winona reappeared, her ash-blond hair pulled off her face with a clip and her lips freshly glossed. “I’m ready if you are, gentlemen,” she announced.

Jim pushed to his feet. “Then let’s go.”

~*~

They spent about an hour wandering around the neighborhood before heading to Pike Books, and Jim was amused at the way Leonard had dubbed himself tour guide, pointing out to Winona the various places they frequented, from the bagel place where Jim had picked up their breakfast to the Starbucks they had independently haunted prior to meeting and the infamous Café Lalo, where Jim had “stood Leonard up” all those months ago. By silent but mutual agreement, they avoided the block where Shop Around the Corner used to be. Leonard might not blame Jim for the store’s closing, but he still got a little too quiet when presented with an up-close reminder that the little shop was gone for good. Whether it didn’t occur to Winona or she simply understood, she made no request to see that particular landmark.

Pike Books was crowded, as it typically was on a Sunday. Jim and Leonard both nodded to the sales people as they toured the store. Winona took in all the details, from the lighting fixtures to the polished bookcases and the carefully designed displays, asking the occasional question but mostly just admiring the overall effect. Eventually she was drawn to the books themselves, and Jim couldn’t help but chuckle when the volumes she pulled from the shelves began piling up on her arm instead of being slipped back into place. He went and grabbed one of the shopping baskets they provided for customers.

“Here, Ma, give me those,” he said, gently prying the stack of books from her grasp.

“What? Oh, thanks Jimmy, that’s very helpful,” she said, once she realized what he was doing.

Jim set the books in the basket and then placed it next to her on the floor. “There you go.”

Leaving her to her shopping, he went in search of Leonard, knowing he wouldn’t have to go far. Sure enough, he was lurking in the children’s department, checking out the new titles. Jim laughed when he realized that, like his mother, his lover had a couple of books already stacked on one arm.

“Find something you like?” he murmured, sneaking up behind him.

Leonard jumped a foot and spun around. “Menace,” he whispered. “And yeah, check this out.” He held out his top-most selection.

Jim stared at the colorful book cover featuring a boy on a broomstick. “Hmm, yeah, I heard about that one. Apparently it’s made a big splash in the UK. US rights sold at auction.”

“Right. Figured I’d check it out, see if it’s something Jo-Jo might enjoy.”

Jim smirked. “Sure you aren’t checking out the competition?”

“Nah, this is more middle grade than what I’m working on,” he said, going back to his browsing.

“You are going to let me read it one of these days, right?” Jim prodded.

“Eventually,” came the amused retort. “What’s your mom up to?”

“Same as you, though we may need to ship her haul back to Iowa for her at the rate she’s going.”

“You figured out what you want to do about the other thing yet?”

Jim leaned absently against Leonard’s side, smiling when he wrapped his free arm around Jim’s shoulders and gave him a quick hug. “I’m thinking maybe I won’t say anything to either of them.”

Leonard turned, brows arched. “Really? You’re not going to do anything?”

“Didn’t say that, did I?” Jim said with a smirk. “I thought maybe Chris would like to join us for dinner tonight.”

“When was the last time they saw each other?”

Jim shrugged. “My college graduation, as far as I know. Unless they’ve met up since and didn’t tell me.”

“Long time,” Leonard agreed. “I think dinner is an excellent idea.”

~*~

They returned to the apartment a couple of hours later with four Pike’s shopping bags, three of which held Winona’s purchases, though she had bought as many books for Peter and baby Thomas as she had for herself.

“That was wonderful, but I think if you two expect me to stay awake through dinner I should probably try to take a little cat nap now,” she admitted. “I was up extremely early to catch my flight this morning.”

“Sure thing, Ma. You go ahead and relax. I’ve got some paperwork I should do, and I suspect Bones is itching to do some writing. Visiting the store always seems to have that effect.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Leonard said, smiling at Jim’s good natured teasing. “He’s right. Have a good nap, Winona. No staying up reading all those books you bought.”

Winona laughed. “No danger of that now. Maybe tonight.”

Jim waited for her to head inside, then went to call Pike. Leonard grabbed his laptop bag from where he’d left it in the bedroom and brought his computer and notes out to the dining table. When Jim emerged a few minutes later, he let out a quiet sigh but didn’t comment. He had been trying to convince Leonard to simply set up his things in the office on Jim’s desk, which was just an enormous table and therefore suitable to be used as an old fashioned partners’ desk, with two people working across from each other. But Leonard continued to demure, borrowing Jim’s computer when he wanted to check his email or do any online searches, but otherwise carting his own laptop back and forth from his apartment, and putting it away whenever he wasn’t using it.

“We all set?” Leonard asked, knowing it was pointless to try explaining his motivations.

“Yeah. He’s going to meet us.”

“Did you actually tell him that your mom would be there?”

“I might have neglected to mention it,” Jim admitted, coming to stand next to him, one hand resting on the back of his chair, just brushing against his shoulder.

Leonard let out a snort. “And I’m guessing you won’t bother to tell Winona that you called Chris, either.”

“I won’t lie to her face, if that’s what you’re implying. If she asks, I’ll be happy to tell her.”

Leonard shook his head, eyes focused on his computer screen. He tapped the arrow key, scrolling back a page as something occurred to him. “Hmm. So where are we eating?”

“B. Smith’s.”

That got his attention. The restaurant was a particular favorite of his, an upscale place in the theater district, sophisticated but not over priced, with a Southern-themed menu and live music a few nights a week. It would be quieter than usual, given it was Sunday, but Leonard hardly cared, since it was the fried catfish that was the main draw as far as he was concerned. “What made you choose that?” he asked, looking up.

Jim leaned in and cupped Leonard’s face with both hands before dropping a gentle kiss on his mouth. Then he pulled back slightly and rested his forehead against Leonard’s. “I chose it because you love it,” he murmured. “And because it makes me happy to make you happy.” He kissed him again, this time on the tip of his nose, and released him. “Write. Our reservations aren’t until eight. I’m going to go get some work done.”

Leonard watched him retreat to his office, aware that he was quite suddenly, painfully hard in his jeans, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it.

~*~

Jim had requested a corner table, knowing it would afford them the most privacy, along with a nice opportunity to people watch for his mother should she decide to sit in stony silence and refuse to talk to any of them. He wasn’t worried about Chris’s reaction, but the truth was that he had less of a fix on how his mother might behave once she realized what they had done.

As it happened, Chris arrived at the restaurant just a few moments after they did, when they were about to be escorted to the table, and so Jim missed his mother’s expression upon seeing him, though he did note that Chris’s eyes widened slightly in surprise and--Jim was fairly certain--delight. Winona and Chris followed the hostess, and Jim hung back, letting Bones walk ahead of him, and by the time they were all seated, Winona and Chris were in the middle of a conversation. Neither mentioned that they’d been unaware that the other would be at dinner.

Slowly, Jim began to unwind, aided no doubt by the cocktails they all ordered while they perused the menu. It also helped to have Bones sitting next to him, giving his hand a surreptitious squeeze from time to time beneath the table.

“Did you discover this place, Leonard?” Winona asked, once they had ordered their meals.

“Uh, no, actually Jim brought me here,” he said. “I was complaining about not being able to find any collard greens at the market, and this was his solution.”

Pike laughed. “He was probably worried you’d go dashing back to Georgia in search of a fix.”

Jim tilted his head in acknowledgement. “I’ll admit my motives weren’t entirely altruistic.”

“Jim’s always been something of a problem solver,” Winona said. “He liked to fix things as a child. I would come home from work almost every week to find he’d dismantled something new. The toaster, the radio, the dishwasher. But he always managed to put them back together again.”

“Ah, but did they work?” Pike asked.

“Hey!” Jim protested.

“I’ll wager they worked better than they had before he took ‘em apart,” Leonard said.

Winona nodded. “You’d win that bet.”

The waiter arrived with their wine, and Jim went through the ritual of tasting and approving before everyone got their glass. Sipping the deep red merlot, he glanced at his mother across the table and found her watching him. He felt himself squirm slightly in his seat, an automatic reaction that made him feel eight years old again. She smiled gently, as if knowing precisely how he was feeling, and Jim was forced to set down his glass and swallow hard.

“Excuse me, I’ll be right back,” he said, pushing back from the table. He brushed Bones’s hand with his own when his lover reached out, but he gained his feet and headed toward the restrooms.

Once alone, he went over to the sink and rested his hands against the edge of the cool porcelain, supporting himself as he stared into the mirror. He knew he looked like his father, had seen the photographs, had heard it from family members when he was growing up. He knew what his mother saw when she looked in his face, in his eyes, and sometimes he wondered if that had been the true root of their problems. But despite everything, he wanted his mother to be happy, to live her life. He just wasn’t sure he trusted her to do so without leaving more carnage in her wake.

He splashed some cold water on his face and patted it dry with a handful of paper towels. Then he took a deep breath and exited the men’s room. He half expected to find someone waiting for him outside the door--his mother, Pike, even Bones--but the small vestibule was empty.

Back at the table, their meals had arrived. Jim took his seat, thankful to having something more to focus on. Leonard leaned toward him, and he could feel his breath hot against his cheek as he spoke. “You okay?”

Jim smiled and nodded slightly. “Yeah, fine,” he murmured. “How’s your catfish?”

Leonard shot him a knowing look. “Delicious, as always. Did I thank you for deciding we should eat here tonight?”

“Not in so many words, no.”

“Ah, well, wasn’t really words I had in mind,” he replied, voice husky and carefully pitched not to travel. “Remind me to do something ‘bout that later, darlin’.”

“Oh god,” Jim muttered, reaching for his wine and taking a healthy swallow. On his other side, Chris noticed his actions.

“Something wrong there, Jim?” he asked, looking amused.

“Not at all,” he managed, wondering when exactly his friends and family had conspired to drive him insane.

“So,” Chris continued, “I was telling Winona and Leonard about this little jazz club that’s opened up a few blocks from here. Fabulous music, nice wine list. Just a mellow little hole in the wall, really, but it’s gotten great reviews. I thought maybe we could give it a try after dinner, if you’re all interested?”

Meeting Chris’s inquiring gaze, Jim knew there was an underlying question to his request. Bones’s hand on his knee only confirmed it for him. “That sounds great, Chris,” he began, “but Bones and I had been talking about an early night. I’ve got a meeting in the morning regarding the new distribution center.” Bracing himself, he turned to look at his mother. “But Mom, you should check it out. There’s no reason for you to turn in early.”

Winona looked startled for a moment, as if she was only just picking up on the subtext in the conversation. Realization brightened her eyes and she blinked several times before she spoke. “I’d like to, very much,” she admitted. “But only if you’re sure you don’t mind, Jim.”

Exhaling slowly, Jim shook his head. “I don’t mind, Ma. Go. Have fun. You deserve it,” he said quietly.

“Thank you, baby.”

An awkward silence followed, which Leonard finally broke rather abruptly. “Okay, now that that’s all settled, eat your dinner, people, so we can get to dessert. They have a bread pudding here that you would not believe.”

~*~

Leonard smiled in satisfaction at the sight of a naked Jim Kirk, lying spread eagle across the bed and breathing hard in the aftermath of orgasm. His chest was flushed, his hair going every which way, and his eyes closed, shuttering that bright blue gaze. He had never looked more beautiful.

“Oh my god, Bones,” he panted. “I think you just sucked my brains out through my dick.”

Snorting, Leonard crawled up the bed beside him, stretching out on his side. He reached out and brushed Jim’s sweaty bangs back off his forehead, then leaned in and kissed the warm skin he’d revealed. Jim hummed lightly in contentment, and Leonard felt his own smile broaden.

“You were a very good boy,” he murmured. “And good boys deserve rewards.”

“I’m taking you for bread pudding more often.”

“Hah. Not just the food, darlin’. That was a nice thing you did tonight, for Pike and your mom.”

Jim groaned and opened his eyes. “Please don’t tell me you just gave me an awesome blowjob because I set my mom up with my boss.”

“Okay, well, I guess when you put it like that it sounds a little creepy,” he admitted. “I just meant that I know it was hard for you, but you did it anyway. I’m proud of you.”

“I guess I can live with that.” Jim rolled toward Leonard, propping his head up on his hand as he glanced down. “Hmm, was going to offer to return the favor but it seems I don’t need to.”

“Yeah, well, might have gotten a little carried away,” Leonard said. He shuffled closer to Jim and pulled him so they were flush against each other, legs tangling together. “Rain check?”

“Any time you want.”

They lay that for a while, kissing and stroking each other. Leonard was aware that Winona would probably be back before long.

“You gave your mom a key, right?”

Jim chuckled. “Yes, and her name is on the list at the door, so they know to just let her right up.”

“Hmm, good,” Leonard said, nuzzling a little closer. “So, I’ve been thinking?”

“About?”

“If I move in with you, how is it going to work?”

Jim froze in his arms, arching his head back just enough to look him in the eye. “How do you mean?” he asked cautiously.

Leonard shrugged. “If we were both renting, I’d say we should look for a new place that would be just ours. But you own this place, plus I have to admit I kind of like it. Stupid for you to sell it. But I need to pull my own weight, Jim.”

Jim let out a shaky breath. “God, Bones, I was pretty sure you’d decided against it entirely. We can work it out any way you want.”

Leonard frowned. “What do you mean? I told you I was thinking about it.”

“I know you did.” He pulled away and rolled onto his back, lifting both hands to run through his hair. “I just figured you were going to say no.”

“Would you rather I say no?”

“No! I mean, of course not, I want you to move in here,” Jim said, looking vaguely horrified.

“Okay, so, I’m not sure I understand then. What’s the problem?”

Jim shook his head. “There isn’t one. Really.” He managed a weak smile. “God, I was so scared you wouldn’t stay,” he whispered. “That I’d lose you.”

“Hey, come here,” Leonard said, reaching out and dragging Jim back into his arms, concerned when he curled into him, tucking his head under Leonard’s chin. “It’s okay,” he murmured. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Sorry. I’m being an idiot.”

“I don’t think so. I think there’s something else goin’ on here and I need you to talk to me. Is this back to your mom and all her marriages? You think nothing ever lasts, is that it?”

Jim shrugged in his arms. “I don’t know. It wasn’t even really conscious. It’s just I’ve never done this. Never wanted to do this before now, not really. But I look at my mother and how she mourned my dad all these years, and I couldn’t help but wonder what it would have been like if he hadn’t died. Would they still be together? Or was it just easy to love him because he was gone?”

“I can’t speak to that, but it seems to me that they were married for a good while before he died. Isn’t your brother six years older than you?”

Jim nodded.

“Okay, then. So, they were together going on seven years. That’s a good long marriage. Longer than mine.”

“Longer than any of Winona’s other marriages, too,” Jim admitted.

“But either way, Jim, that’s her. Her life, her relationships. You can’t hold up another person’s life and assume yours will go the same way. It would make more sense to me if you were worrying about my track record. After all, I’m the one with a failed marriage.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“It takes two people to make or break any relationship. Jocelyn and I both had our share in the blame. But I like to think I learned a thing or two.”

Jim pulled away again and shoved up to lean against the headboard, but he kept one of Leonard’s hands caught in his. “I know you said you were thinking about it, but I guess I didn’t see what there was to think about,” he admitted. “Either you want to be with me or you don’t.”

“I just didn’t want to rush into anything and screw it up. Wanted to make sure we were both really ready. Have you ever even lived with someone?”

“Not romantically, no. But we’re practically living together now, aren’t we? Would it be that different if you didn’t have your apartment out there like a safety net?”

“Now, probably not. Which is why I think we’re ready now. But when you first asked me?”

“Okay,” Jim agreed. “Maybe I jumped the gun a little bit. But it’s like you fight me every step of the way for everything,” he sighed.

Leonard frowned. “Do I really?”

“A little bit. Most of it isn’t important, but it adds up, you know? Like coming and going with your toothbrush until I got fed up and just bought you one to leave here. Refusing to write in my office even though you know you’d be less distracted.”

“I guess I have kind of been resistant, haven’t I?”

Jim chuckled, sinking back down so they were lying even on the bed. “Just a little.”

“I’m sorry, darlin’.”

“Keep calling me darlin’ like that,” Jim told him, “and I’ll forgive you.”

“Still want me to move in?”

“More than ever.” Jim brushed a kiss across his lips, settling in close. “We can go see a lawyer, if you want. Get some papers drawn up. Or just open a joint account, pay bills out of that. However you feel comfortable. I don’t care, Bones. I just want to be with you.”

“Okay. You really have that meeting in the morning?”

“Yeah. ‘Fraid so.”

“Then let’s get some sleep. We can talk about it some more after your mom’s gone.” Leonard reached down and pulled the lightweight duvet up and over them, while Jim reached for the light.

In the darkness, they both shifted and turned until they were spooned together, Jim curled around Leonard in their normal sleeping position--at least for the start of the night. By morning, Leonard would have Jim trapped beneath him in some sort of nocturnal tackle.

“So you’re really moving in?” Jim murmured sleepily against Leonard’s bare shoulder.

“I’m really moving in. Go to sleep, darlin’.”

“I love you, Bones.”

Leonard squeezed the hand he held caught in his. “I love you, too.”

~*~

The End