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Another Life - a Star Trek fic - (Chapters 66 - 70)

Sequel to ‘On Borrowed Time’

Fandoms: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series (TOS), Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (AOS) Pairing: McCoy x Original Female Character (Dr. Jennifer Hope) Characters: The Crew of the USS Enterprise (NCC-1701) Rating/Warnings: None Tags: Romance, Friendship, Love, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, Angst/H/C, Caring/Protective/Tender/Comforting/Happy/Grumpy/Worried McCoy Word Count: This is a long one. Again. 😄 (71 chapters - 177k)

Read it on AO3: Another Life

Chapter 66

“Well,” Dakunia sighed, “they couldn't just return her to her own time, for obvious reasons, but they were still hoping to find a way to somehow reverse the effect and ‘reintegrate’ her. So they spun her a tale about some rare and aggressive kind of leukaemia, conveniently one that caused hallucinations and blackouts, and kept her isolated and mostly sedated to perform all kinds of medical tests on her, while Starfleet’s finest engineers and scientists were working on the technical side of things. She never even realised she’d been catapulted two centuries into the future. A hospital will always look like a hospital, I guess.”

McCoy didn’t appreciate the admiral’s weak attempt at humour. He was beyond appalled. Just the thought of how lost and scared Hope must have felt, finding herself hospitalised and faced with a deadly disease without so much as her family around for support, was breaking his heart. Yet, he tried to keep focused on Dakunia’s account, pushing aside all images of Hope being ‘medically tested’ with the means and methods of a century ago.

“When they still weren’t any closer to a breakthrough a couple of weeks later,” the admiral went on quietly, clearly avoiding to meet anyone’s eye now, “they decided to put her in stasis for the time being. With no danger of her disappearance causing harm to our timeline, she was little more than collateral damage to them. Basically, all Starfleet did was to have time travel prohibited altogether, and then, as time went by and other projects took priority, all but forgot about Hope, leaving her ‘shelved’, in case someone stumbled on a solution one day.”

By now, McCoy’s blood was boiling with helpless rage and disgust, and he was hardly able to keep the angry tears at bay, that were starting to form in his eyes. This kind and wonderful woman, who meant the world to him, who’d been put in this terrible and frightening position through no fault of her own, who’d depended on these people’s help and care, and, knowing her, probably trustingly so, had simply been dismissed as collateral damage. Low priority. Deprived of all human rights, of a life. Shelved!

“Like some goddamn specimen!” he snarled, casting a dismayed glance at Kirk, and finding a bit of comfort in seeing his friend’s face darken with the same outrage he felt.

“You’d really think that people, Starfleet, less than a century ago would have been more enlightened,” the captain snapped, glaring at Dakunia. “What way is that to treat a life?”

“I know, Jim,” the admiral responded dejectedly, eyes still cast down. “What can I say? The first I ever heard about any of this, was only after you’d successfully restored Captain John Christopher1) to his own time, and Hope was taken out of stasis to be restored to her time in the same way.”

Even Spock was leaning forward in his chair now, clearly intrigued, and possibly appalled, by all the unexpected turns Dakunia’s account of Hope’s past had taken.

“Needless to say, it didn’t work out,” Dakunia continued, grimacing. “Apparently, Hope’s case is not comparable to Christopher’s after all. So, suddenly finding myself in charge of the highly classified ‘Hope Project’, there was no way I was allowing the scared girl to be put back in stasis, of course. But I didn’t want to condemn her to a life as guinea pig, a specimen as you called it, Doctor, either.”

The admiral’s eyes found McCoy’s, conveying what seemed to be genuine concern for Hope.

“She’s so young and brilliant, far too precious to be regarded as some sort of experiment, some unexplored life form. But then, of course, no one deserves to spend their life as a lab rat. Luckily, records weren’t kept as diligently in the last century as they’re now, ensuring that only a handful of people knew about Hope and the closer circumstances surrounding her in the first place. So, I was able to spare her that fate. Up to now, that is.”

McCoy had been hanging on every word the admiral had said and was struggling to find his voice, his mouth dry as a Vulcan desert, and his heart threatening to pound its way out of his chest. He was far from ready to forgive Dakunia yet, but he did feel more lenient towards him than only minutes ago.

“So, you stuck to this hare-brained leukaemia story,” the doctor rasped. “And you weren’t entirely lying, when you told her that keeping shtum about it all was for her best. In fact, you most probably did save her from a miserable existence and gave her the chance to actually live. Shame you forgot to consider what keeping all of this to herself would do to her psychologically. Emotionally.”

“I’m sorry about that, Doctor,” the admiral acknowledged remorsefully, “and I’ve felt guilty about it ever since we last talked more than a year ago. But I’m no psychologist, and Hope always seemed to take everything in her stride, happy, in fact, to be here and alive, eager to make the most of her ‘second chance’. And when she turned out a gifted linguist and an impressively quick study to boot, I suggested a career in Starfleet for her, convincing everyone else in the know that this would give her the opportunity to live a normal life, while still making it possible for us to keep a close eye on her.”

Through all the pain McCoy felt on Hope’s behalf, he also felt a sudden surge of gratitude. To Dakunia, and to fate, for bringing her to the Enterprise and into his life. For giving him the chance to take care of her. To ease and maybe even make up for some of the emotional hurt that had been inflicted on her.

“But how could you keep the truth even from her?” Kirk wanted to know, looking accusingly at Dakunia.

“I,” the admiral hesitated, looking a little embarrassed, “thought it kinder not to tell her. A mistake, maybe. But she wasn’t aware that almost a century had passed since her initial tests, and we never anticipated her to remember anything past her physical age to contradict our version of her history. Another mistake, obviously, and the very reason I had to contact you immediately. Because if word comes out, it will not only pique the interest of scientists throughout the Federation and beyond, but it will also bring her back to the attention of Section 31. So far, she’s been classified as ‘inconsequential’. But now that those memories have emerged, who knows what other surprises are lying dormant within her. Section 31 doesn’t like the ‘unknown’, and they certainly don’t like ‘loose ends’.

McCoy felt a chill running down his spine, the implications of what the admiral had just casually mentioned too terrifying to even consider.

“So, that would leave exploring the phenomenon and monitoring its effects on Hope to us here on the Enterprise, I assume?” Spock spoke up. “Since those memories exist, and are surfacing, they cannot simply be ignored. But we can certainly limit knowledge of Lt. Hope’s personal circumstances to a minimum of confidants.”

“Thank you, Mr. Spock,” Dakunia was actually smiling now. “That’s exactly what I was hoping for. I have no idea how, but she must still have been connected to her counterpart in some way after the separation. All I know is that when we first talked to her, she was just a young girl, who simply wanted to go back to her parents, her friends, to university.”

McCoy had to close his eyes and clench his teeth hard not to lose his poise. Remembering the timid girl sitting on his biobed during her first physical, he could just picture Hope shyly asking to go home, only to learn that that would never be possible again. Had anyone even bothered to comfort her then? To tell her that she’d be all right? That she’d be taken care of? Maybe even taken her in their arms and held her for a minute? He guessed not. It was more likely that she’d just been given the cold facts, and then been left to come to terms with her new situation on her own. No wonder she’d never wanted to talk about those first few days and weeks. All the love and security he could give her would never be enough to make up for what she’d been through.

“Perhaps the part of her, that already existed in 1991, was somehow extracted, yet retained echoes of her older self’s mind,” Spock mused, all eyes on him now. “A mirror, or an image of what Vulcans would call her ‘katra’, maybe.”

“Does she have any memories beyond 2016?” the admiral asked on impulse.

“We have no idea, she’s barely begun to remember the time before!” McCoy grumbled irritably, struggling to keep from breaking down under all the new fears and worries he’d just been burdened with, in front of the others.

It was still going to happen, of course, once he’d had time to actually digest everything Dakunia had told them. Although it had better not. He couldn't afford to break down, not when Hope needed him most. He’d have to be strong for her. His amazing fiancée had been nothing but strong ever since she’d woken up in this century, but even she had her limits. Now it was his turn to be strong for her.

“What we do know,” Spock offered, “is that, apart from the love for her children, she remembers places, music, literature, basically all innocuous, positive or neutral, non-personal things after 1991.”

“I’m no expert, and no psychologist, as we’ve already established, but has it occurred to you that Hope herself might have repressed her personal memories for some reason?” the admiral ventured a guess. “Maybe because she’s much happier in her new life and wouldn’t even want to go back? I, for one, am very glad that she’s found a new home on the Enterprise and has your unfailing support, gentlemen. She certainly deserves it. And I certainly made the right decision, when I saw her disappointment at not being cleared for starship duty and, knowing what an asset she would be to your crew, entrusted her to you, Jim.”

“You actually care for her, don’t you?” McCoy asked, suddenly seeing the admiral with new eyes, and feeling genuinely grateful for everything he’d done for Hope.

“I do,” Dakunia confessed softly. “She impressed the hell out of me the first time I met her.”

Same here, the doctor thought fondly.

“This girl,” the admiral went on, smiling at the memory, “this slip of a thing, disoriented, fragile, lost and scared, cut off from everything and everyone she’d known. Yet, underneath her vulnerability, there was this feistiness, this boundless strength and optimism. The determination to keep going, holding her head high, eager to learn and make the best of her situation. Dead set on seeing everything as an adventure rather than a misfortune. And never an angry word, no self-pity, no looking for someone to blame. No, she was always friendly and polite, always accommodating. She never once doubted the leukaemia story either, and even thanked us for curing her. That really made me feel uncomfortable, believe me. So, I made it my mission to help her in any way I could. To make it possible for her to live the life she deserved. And finding her such a brilliant, talented young lady made things easier, of course. I just couldn’t let some random, ancient medical issues take away her chances.”

For the first time since the beginning of their conference, McCoy smiled. A genuine, heartfelt smile, directed at Dakunia, no less.

“One more thing,” the doctor suddenly remembered to ask. “Can Hope get access to the rest of her personal belongings? I recall her mentioning that Starfleet is holding back some of her things.”

“Oh, there’s obviously been a misunderstanding, I’m afraid,” Dakunia looked apologetically at McCoy. “We’re not holding back any actual belongings. There’s nothing more than the things she had on her when she first … er … arrived in the 22nd century. A small suitcase holding some clothes and a few other items, that’s it. Apparently, she was just about to go on vacation when she was … snatched away, or she wouldn’t even have that. But I have accumulated quite an extensive collection of data about her old life. Before and after. Her career, her personal life, her family, including audio and visual material. I’ll have them sent to you at the next opportunity.”

The doctor nodded his thanks, sorry to have to add yet another disappointment to Hope’s growing list. Although it probably didn’t really matter anymore, it somehow pained him to think that her well-loved pink elephant, a picture of two girls she’d once known, and a couple of flower-print dresses were indeed everything she’d possessed when she’d started out on her new life.

Jim must have had a similar train of thought, because he tentatively asked, “What about her financial resources? I don’t mean to pry, but after what we’ve just learned, I don’t suppose she has any funds to speak of? How could she even afford the Academy?”

McCoy had to smile at the open concern on his friend’s face. Seeing other people care about and look out for Hope, too, always sent a comforting warmth to his heart. And he had to admit that he shared that particular concern. Although she’d never appeared to be, and certainly had never complained about wanting for anything, he’d long suspected that Hope’s funds were rather limited. But she’d just skirted around the subject, whenever he’d tried to ask her about it, and so he hadn’t been able to do more for her than pay for the odd meal on shore leave. She’d always been very modest, not seeming to need a lot, and he liked that about her. But now he couldn't help wondering, if she’d come by that quality not entirely by choice.

“We took care of her Academy fees, board and lodging, of course,” Dakunia answered Kirk’s question, “but I also set up a small kind of reparation fund for her, as I think of it. Not a lot, mind you, little enough not to draw attention, and certainly not enough to actually make amends for what we’ve done to her, not that that could even be measured in credits. But it helped towards leading a normal life. You know, buy some nice clothes, go out with friends, that sort of thing. Although there’s still most of it left. She’s not a big spender.”

“Figures,” the captain grinned, casting McCoy a warm glance. “Anything else wouldn’t fit in with the Hope we know and love.”

“I guess it wouldn’t,” the admiral smiled back, “she certainly is a lovely, and very special lady. And you can be sure that I’ll keep doing my best to protect her. But even so, I need you to understand that if word gets out about her unexpected memories, I don’t think I’ll be able to keep the bloodhounds off for very much longer.”

“We understand, Sir,” Kirk confirmed formally, looking satisfied at Dakunia’s assurance to continue his endeavours to protect Hope. “We’ll keep you informed, but other than that, no word about any of this is leaving the Enterprise. We’d never do anything that might put Hope in danger.”

“Very well,” the admiral replied, and if McCoy had any doubt left about his sincerity, the undisguised relief on Dakunia’s face took that away. “And please remember, gentlemen, Hope may have the memories of a woman twice her age, maybe even some of her wisdom. But when it comes down to it, she’s still a very young woman, only just starting out and gaining experience.”

McCoy felt his heart melt at Dakunia’s words. It was exactly how he felt about Hope, too. How he had, in fact, always felt, even before he’d known the whole truth about her. No matter how much he admired and respected her, even relied on her, she’d always be his girl. His to take care of. And his to love and cherish forever.

1) Reference to the TOS episode “Tomorrow Is Yesterday”.

Chapter 67

When the conference with Dakunia had ended, McCoy slumped back in his chair, feeling too heavy to even try to get up. It felt a bit like being underwater, the sounds surrounding him muted, and every move taking immense effort. All those new, overwhelming facts and fears seemed to be weighing him down, not just figuratively, but literally.

Although it wasn’t the part of Hope being a ‘duplicate’, whatever that really meant, that had knocked him sideways. Sure, he’d have to get his head around that one, figure out the consequences, or side-effects, or fallout, whichever. And certainly deal with his anger about how she’d been treated. But he’d seen stranger things. And however Hope had been ‘created’, knowing her inside out as her doctor, her friend, her partner, he could say, without a shadow of a doubt, that she was as human as it got.

How she’d react to the news, however, what it would mean for her emotionally, or even for her future, was another story, of course. And, disconcertingly, this time he honestly had no clue whether she’d take it in her stride like most everything else, or break down, as any other person probably would. Either way, they’d tackle this together, work it all out like they did with everything.

Hope was still the same, amazing woman she’d been an hour ago, nothing had changed there. And in case she started to doubt that, he’d keep reminding her of the fact as long as it took for her to return to her confident self again. Heck, she could turn out to be the daughter of a Gorn and a Horta, for all he cared. She’d still be Hope. His girl. The love of his life.

No, it wasn’t Hope’s history, or ‘nature’, that bothered the doctor. What scared the living daylights out of him was that business with Section 31, whoever they really were. Dakunia’s insistent warning, paired with Jim’s visible alarm at the sheer mention of that department, had put the fear of God into him. If Section 31 were as ruthless and dangerous as he had reason to believe, how was he ever going to keep Hope safe? How would he ever be able to sleep again?

He jumped, when the captain sat down heavily in the chair next to him. Jim and Spock, who had been engaged in a quiet conversation at the far end of the briefing room, repeatedly casting him concerned glances, had obviously decided that he’d had enough time to collect himself.

“How am I supposed to keep her safe, Jim?” McCoy blurted out before Kirk had the chance to say anything.

“You mean, ‘How are we going to keep her safe’?” the captain corrected him gently, coaxing the hint of a smile out of the doctor.

What would he do without his loyal friends by his side? He couldn't even imagine life without their friendship and support anymore. They were his family, just like Hope and Joanna.

“My God, Jim,” he ran a tired hand over his face. “I was expecting a lot of crap from Starfleet, but this Section 31 business certainly surpasses my wildest speculations.”

“Calm down, Bones, she’s safe here with us,” Kirk smiled, resting a comforting hand on the doctor’s arm.

“How can you say that?” McCoy cried out, testily shrugging him off. “The way I see it, she isn’t safe anywhere!”

“You heard Dakunia,” the captain’s voice was soothing. “Section 31 deals with threats, they don’t concern themselves with harmless girls. And no one will ever learn about her newly discovered memories. For what it’s worth, I trust Dakunia. He won’t tell a soul. And neither will we, of course.”

“More secrets,” McCoy sighed miserably. “Will she never be free?”

“Secrets, yes,” Kirk agreed softly. “That can’t be helped. But this time, she has you and us to talk to. Besides, she’s the most resilient person I know.”

The doctor threw his friend a pained look. Of course Hope was resilient! Not least because she had to be.

“And she’s also the happiest, Bones,” Jim added with a warm smile. “You make her happy. You’re the best thing that could have happened to her. With your help, she can overcome anything. She’s a very lucky woman, and she knows it.”

“At least, now we can be sure that she will not need to return to the past,” Spock cut in, saving McCoy from the emotional moment Kirk had created. “Unless she wants to, and we can find a way to make it happen, of course. Maybe you should discuss this with her at some point?”

The doctor felt a cold hand grip his heart. Would Hope want to go back if she had the chance? Now that she knew about her children?

“You all right Bones?” the captain’s gentle voice brought him back to the present.

“What am I even going to tell her, Jim?” McCoy groaned. “Where do I begin? How do you tell someone that they’re a ‘duplicate’?”

He was sorely tempted not to tell Hope anything at all, suddenly understanding why Dakunia had chosen that path. There was nothing but heartache to be gained from knowing the truth. But then, he’d have to find some other explanation for her flashbacks. And that would mean lying to her, which, of course, he couldn’t do. She’d been lied to enough already, and she deserved nothing but the truth.

Besides, he couldn’t build their marriage on a secret, on lies, no matter how much he’d love to spare her the heartache. No, the way to go was to be completely honest and then just be there for her. Ease the pain as best he could. Not to mention that she needed to know how serious this was. That she couldn’t tell anyone. That she had to stay safe.

“I know what you’re thinking, Bones,” Kirk broke into his thoughts. “But she’s waiting for answers. Those memories won’t just go away. There’s no way around telling her.”

“And don’t you think I know that?” McCoy blustered. “Of course, I’m going to tell her. We can’t start making up new lies. She deserves the truth. If for nothing else but to stay safe.”

Jim nodded mildly, and the doctor felt himself deflate.

“But where do I start?” he looked helplessly at Kirk. “How do I say what needs to be said? How do I soften the blow, prepare her for what’s to come?”

“You’re a doctor,” the captain replied. “It’s not the first time you’ve had to break unpleasant news to someone. You’ll find the right words. Besides, Hope’s much stronger than you give her credit for. I’m pretty sure she’ll surprise you. She’ll be relieved to have answers, to finally know the truth. She may need some time to adjust, to get to grips with the situation, but with your help she’ll come out the other side stronger. Like she has every time. Nothing we’ve learned today will destroy her life. Or her happiness, for that matter. Because she won’t let it.”

“Thanks Jim,” McCoy smiled, getting up. “I needed to hear that. And you’re certainly right. They don’t come any stronger than Hope.”

Of course, Jim was right. Hope was one of the strongest people he knew.

Certainly stronger than I am, he sighed inwardly, looking gloomily at his usually so steady hands that he just couldn't seem to stop from trembling now.

Truthfully, the only thing still keeping him together was the knowledge that Hope was safe for the moment. Here on the Enterprise. With him. Needing him. That she was only a few steps away, happy to let him hold her and feel her reassuring presence, to show her how loved she was, how special, how wonderful. He couldn’t change the things that had happened to her. But he could still give her all the love and care, the Geborgenheit she craved and deserved. Powerless as he was to change the past, he certainly had the power to make her future the happiest it could be.

Hope must be rubbing off on me, he thought, shaking his head in wonder, because instead of weighed down and helpless, he suddenly felt animated, imagining all the nice things he would do for her.

“Now go tell her,” Kirk clapped an encouraging hand on his friend’s back as the three officers made their way to the door. “And take tomorrow off, if you need to.”

But when the doors slid open, and the doctor saw Hope already standing there, anxiously waiting for him, his resolve crumbled, and all he could do was pull her into the tightest hug and back inside the briefing room.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Jenny couldn't suppress a surprised yelp at being so unceremoniously yanked into the briefing room, and into the mother of all bear hugs. And, of course, it didn’t take a genius to realise that Leonard had been seriously rattled, and that that was to do with her, or more precisely, with the conference call he’d just ended with Admiral Dakunia, as Uhura had informed her only a few minutes ago.

Needless to say, the intensity of McCoy’s embrace, normally her safe place, was making her feel rather uneasy right now. The way he’d wrapped his arms around her, almost crushing her, burying his face in her hair and clinging to her as if he hadn’t seen her only this morning, and after an incredible night, too, could only mean one thing. What they were going to tell her wasn’t pleasant.

She’d been surprised when Spock had asked her and her team to check the latest translator update for a rather unusual bug that afternoon, but had also been grateful to have her mind taken off her worries and fears. And, of course, she’d suspected that that had exactly been the first officer’s intention, recognising it as one of his subtle kindnesses. It hadn’t occurred to her, however, that he was trying to keep a subspace meeting with Dakunia from her.

When Jenny and her staff had finished their assignment, she’d been thinking about calling a band rehearsal, or asking Chekov for a training session, to keep busy and give Leonard a breather from her constant yammering and whining, which seemed to be all she was doing lately. But then she’d thought better of it. In her current state of mind, she might just have started telling Nyota or Pavel about her woes, drawing them into her issues as well. And she didn’t feel comfortable with that at all.

She was the one people came to for help, and support, and an open ear. The other way round would simply feel wrong. Except with poor Leonard, who’d been her confidant and counsellor from the beginning. She knew, of course, that the doctor didn’t mind, even enjoyed worrying about her in his own peculiar way. He couldn’t help it, it was how he demonstrated love. Probably how he felt it, too. And deeply so, because there was no other way he knew how to feel. Leonard felt everything very deeply.

But she’d still always tried not to bother him with every little problem, every issue, every hiccup. She wasn’t this needy, clingy girlfriend, or at least she didn’t want to be. On the contrary. Given the doctor’s proneness to worrying and brooding, she always tried to be upbeat and positive around him. To cheer him up when he was in one of his moods. To show him how pleasant and wonderful life really was. Only, with her flashbacks and emerging memories, she hadn’t been very successful at that recently. The worry about where it all came from, and whether she was going crazy, had become too much of a constant companion in her mind.

So, when Uhura had let on that Leonard, Kirk and Spock were in a mysterious meeting with Dakunia, her heart rate had instantly gone up by a million bpm. Immediately heading for the briefing room, all she’d been able to do was keep from barging in, sticking to pacing the corridor outside instead, and trying not to think about why she hadn’t been included in the meeting. She just couldn't wait to hear what new information Dakunia had divulged. At that point, it didn’t really matter if it was good or bad news anymore. She just wanted to have clarity. To know the truth about herself, even if the consequences were severe. Anything was better than this uncertainty.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Unable to hold off any longer, she gently disengaged herself from Leonard’s embrace, and, wondering how to pose the question she so desperately needed answered without breaking down in front of the captain and Spock, decided to try the casual approach.

“So, that bad, eh?” she began, her voice surprisingly strong. “Am I officially going crazy now?”

Leonard just wordlessly shook his head, and Kirk, for once, seemed to be at a loss for words, too.

Only Spock, the epitome of calm, as always, answered, “Indeed, you are not, Lieutenant. Your sanity is perfectly intact, no need for concern there. However, there are quite a number of new facts that you need to hear about. Would you like Dr. McCoy to fill you in on everything in private, or would you rather we told you here right away?”

Jenny would really have preferred to do this in private. To have Leonard tenderly hold her while he gently let her in on all these ‘new facts’. But given how upset the doctor seemed, and assuming that Spock hadn’t suggested for them all to tell her together without reason, she decided to take him up on the offer. Leonard definitely looked like he could use his friends’ support, an observation that certainly did nothing to reassure her.

“I think I’d rather you just told me right away. I really can’t wait any longer,” she replied, the relief on McCoy’s face not going unnoticed, as he tenderly led her over to a chair.

He seemed to have his act back together now, all reassuring smiles and comforting hands in the small of her back or around her waist again, and Jenny instantly felt far less afraid, despite knowing that it probably was just that: an act. But even so, there was nothing like Leonard in calm doctor mode to make her feel safe and secure.

Just as she was sitting down, however, McCoy had a change of heart and, pressing a soft kiss to her temple, said, “You know, it’s really a good idea to have Jim and Spock help me get all the facts straight when I tell you. But I still think we should do this in our quarters. It’s more comfortable there. After all, this is a private matter and not some strategy meeting.”

Absurdly, the only thing Jenny could think at that moment was that he’d just called them ‘our quarters’ for the first time in front of others, probably ever. Totally unrelated and certainly not the issue here, but oh so wonderful to hear. Something heart-warming and joyful to hold on to in the midst of this unnerving and mind-boggling situation. And she wouldn’t put it past Leonard to have saved those words for an occasion like this, perfectly aware that they were sure to put a smile in her heart.

Chapter 68

“I’m sorry I scared you, love,” McCoy looked ruefully at Jenny, as they made their way through the corridors, Kirk and Spock following at a little distance. “It was just so good to see you, and you know how I tend to overreact. But there’s really nothing wrong with you, least of all with your marvellous mind. What Dakunia told us was … surprising more than anything else. But nothing we couldn't deal with.”

Of course, he’d realised how his earlier behaviour had frightened her. He might have been unable to stop himself, but he wouldn’t be Leonard, if he hadn’t been acutely aware of what hugging her like there was no tomorrow had done to her.

“It’s all right, I’m not scared,” Jenny mustered a weak smile, grabbing and squeezing the hand that had been lightly brushing against hers with every step.

Their eyes met, and they both had to laugh, a brief moment of lightness, shared humour taking away the unbearable tension, because, of course, they both knew that she was scared witless and he had been far more than just surprised by what he’d learned.

God, how she loved this man. For being exactly the way he was. For pulling off awkward and confident at the same time, as if they weren’t opposites. For loving her so fiercely and unconditionally. And for having this unique gift for making her laugh and feel safe, even seconds away from falling to pieces himself. The very gift that made him such an extraordinary healer.

The news might not be good, frightening even, but as long as he could still pull himself together enough to revert to ‘doctor mode’, it had to be something she could overcome. Or at least survive. Of course, Jenny knew that Leonard was always a doctor first, and that comforting and reassuring were ‘his business’. But she also knew that there were exceptions. Limits even for him.

Because just like he’d always be a father first when it came to Joanna, he wouldn’t be able to put the doctor before the partner in her case either, if the news really were that terrible. At least not unless the doctor in him could save her.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Once again, Jenny was sitting on the couch in McCoy’s - no their - quarters, feeling uneasy and not knowing what to anticipate, with Leonard sitting next to her, his arm protectively around her shoulders, and Kirk and Spock sitting across from them.

Another déjà vu, but with this one, at least, she knew exactly where it came from. She vividly remembered the last time they’d been sitting here like this, over a year ago, when she’d told them about her past and how she’d come to live in the 23rd century.

It had all seemed so straightforward then. So simple. She’d believed everything would be all right, once she shared her secret with them. And for a time, it was. Until new secrets cropped up. Only this time, apparently, they weren’t her secrets but someone else’s. Or, perhaps, the truth was even stranger than that. Even more ‘surprising’. She really couldn’t wait for McCoy to finally spill the beans.

“Leonard, please,” Jenny shifted in his embrace, looking up at him imploringly. “I know you mean well, but whatever you have to tell me, stop trying to break it to me gently, just say it. All I need is the truth. And I need it now. Your beating about the bush is killing me.”

“Of course, love, I’m sorry,” he sighed, brushing a quick kiss on her hair.

And then, taking a deep breath, the doctor launched into a detailed recount of everything Admiral Dakunia had told them, carefully watching her as her eyes grew wider with every new fact, and pulling her a little closer every time she shivered with shock and disbelief.

So, she’d nearly been killed, stumbling into some top-secret Starfleet Intelligence time travel mission? And then been brought two hundred years into the future only to be put to sleep for another hundred years? She’d never even had leukaemia? She’d been duplicated?

What next? Is there even anything real in my world? Or is my whole life just one, big lie?

Feeling completely numb and almost detached, the doctor’s arm was the only thing still grounding her, as she listened to his preposterous tale, interrupted only by the occasional remark from Kirk or Spock. Surely, this could only be a very bad joke. Only, it couldn't be, because there was no way Leonard would ever join in such a cruel prank. And neither would Kirk or Spock, for that matter. No, it had to be another nightmare. She could only hope to wake up soon.

“Why can I remember the most unspectacular songs but not people, not even my own sons, properly?” Jenny heard herself ask, her voice sounding as if it belonged to someone else.

“We think it’s to do with emotions,” McCoy answered softly, tenderly hugging her to him and wrapping her in his comforting warmth and love, his arms still the safest place she knew. “Songs, and music in general, make for happy or at least neutral memories. But people and relationships are more difficult. More personal. Spock’s confident, though, that with time you’ll remember everything. Slowly, but steadily. Don’t push yourself, love. Just like with amnesia, you can’t force it. You just need to let it happen.”

Easy for him to say, Jenny thought irritably, well aware that she was being unfair. Talk about shooting the messenger. Of course, she knew that the whole situation, having to break those news to her, was anything but easy for Leonard, but she needed to vent, if only in her mind.

“Maybe there were things your older self wasn’t entirely happy with and found easier to suppress,” Spock volunteered. “After all, there was enough for you to come to terms with, even without the additional burden of future – and perhaps less agreeable – memories.”

“Well, if there’s anyone who might know, it would be you, Mr. Spock, wouldn’t it?” Jenny all but snapped, trying to keep the bitterness from her voice. “So far, you’re the only one who’s seen my ‘future memories’.”

“Not the buried ones,” the Vulcan countered gently. “Not many of them, anyway. And without context, most of them will only make sense with time. However, from everything I’ve seen so far, it isn’t likely that there was a major catastrophe overshadowing your life.”

“That’s reassuring to know, Mr. Spock,” Jenny chuckled drily, feeling only mildly relieved.

But then, she seemed to have stopped feeling altogether. It was like staring into a great, big void. Even Leonard’s strong arms enfolding her, which would usually have given her the world of comfort and the most reassuring sense of security, could just as well have been some armchair, albeit a comfortable one, she was sitting in. At the end of the day, of course, it didn’t matter either way. Nothing did. Because she wasn’t real. She was just a cheap copy of some other woman.

“Strictly speaking, it’s not even my life, and they aren’t my memories to begin with. Neither my past, nor my future are actually mine.”

It was only after the words were out of her mouth, and Leonard’s thumbs were gently wiping away a few tears she hadn’t even been aware had begun to trickle down her cheeks, that the cold, hard truth struck her with full force.

“One by one, your memories will resurface, love,” the doctor murmured, his face inches from hers, gazing intently into her eyes. “And they’re all yours, there’s no question about it. Try looking at the bright side. You won’t have to feel guilty anymore, since you were actually always there for your sons. They never lost you. They never had to live without their mother. If your memories of them are painful, it’s because you miss them, not because they missed you.”

“So, my sons grew up with their mum. That’s a good thing, right?” Jenny looked into McCoy’s kind eyes. “But where does that leave me? Who am I, if not their mother?”

Suddenly, she didn’t feel numb at all anymore. It was as if her heart had been temporarily frozen and was now defrosting at speed again. All her emotions, her pains, her fears, her insecurities, everything that had or hadn’t happened to her, or to her sons, everything she’d believed she was until today, was coming tumbling down on her at once.

Jenny couldn't think straight anymore, couldn't move, didn’t know what to say, or where to look, or what to believe. All she wanted was for Kirk and Spock to go away, so that she didn’t have to pretend being in control any longer. And all she needed was Leonard’s comforting presence, his loving arms around her, safely holding her while she was falling apart and patiently waiting to put her back together again when she was ready.

That was exactly what she wanted to tell him, but what came out instead was, “I’m so sorry for worrying you again. I don’t know why I keep doing this to you.”

Fortunately, she didn’t have to tell Leonard what she really needed. He’d probably known before she did. Because while he was gently cradling her to his chest, she could feel him gesticulating above her head, and then heard the hiss of the door as Kirk and Spock quietly left.

“You know that I consider worrying about you my privilege,” he said after a moment, his words slightly muffled by her hair. “We’ve helped each other through difficult times before, and this is going to be no different. Together, we’ll pull through. Nothing can hurt us.”

-x-x-x-x-x-

“Nothing? I’m nothing,” was the first thing Hope said when the others were gone, lifting her head to look at him, and McCoy felt his heart breaking. “I’m no one. Just a ... projection. A copy.”

She wasn’t crying or even really looking upset, just very confused and lost.

“You’re nothing of the sort, love,” he replied, his arms delicately holding her, and his hands softly caressing her face, reflecting the indescribable tenderness that surged through him as he gazed into her questioning eyes. “You’re as real as they come. And I should know, I’ve checked and fixed you more times than I care to remember.”

She was looking to him for answers, for guidance, for reassurance, and he’d never felt more protective of anyone in his life.

“You’re an amazing individual, no doubt an original! Heck, for all we know, your counterpart could, in fact, be a copy of you! But sticking to Spock’s theory, as far as I was able to understand it, you might want to think of her as your twin rather than copy and original.”

Hope nodded slowly, considering his words.

“I won’t pretend to know how you’re feeling, love,” he went on softly. “And maybe you don’t have a clue what to feel or think yet, either. But I’m here. To help you get your head around this. To talk and to listen. Or simply hold you while you’re processing all of this.”

Heaving a sigh, Hope just wordlessly sank back into his arms, burying her face against his neck, and McCoy’s heart broke a little more. He’d watched her trying to hang on and keep her composure all evening, her questions and remarks almost robotic, as if on autopilot, reminding him of the day after their first night together on shore leave, when Jim had come to tell her she’d been transferred to the Lexington, pushing her off the top of the world in a matter of seconds.

Why was she never allowed to stay happy for long? Just because she was strong and resilient, as Jim put it, and had proven herself capable of bouncing back from anything time and again, didn’t mean she didn’t deserve to simply be happy once in a while.

“You’re holding me as if I were made of glass,” Hope murmured close to his ear, and it sounded almost like a complaint. “Are you suddenly afraid to break me? Or am I going to dissolve any moment now?”

“Of course not!” the doctor was quick to assure her, instantly hugging her a little tighter, not even having noticed that he’d started to treat her like the fragile girl she was on the outside. “You’re as strong as ever. Sometimes, I just get carried away with how much love and tenderness you need and deserve, and then I can’t seem to be gentle enough with you.”

That seemed to placate her, as she snuggled a little closer.

“You know, I’ve been struggling with feeling inferior before,” she sighed, “being this Neanderthal among all you brilliant people of the 23rd century. But now I’m even more lacking! In everything. I’m not even a full human being!”

“My God, you’re not lacking in anything, love!” McCoy contradicted, appalled at the idea that Hope would even think something like that, but at the same time understanding that she was feeling insecure right now and needed all the reassurance she could get. “You’re still exactly the same amazing woman you were yesterday. Apart from still being the most important person in my life, of course. My one and only.”

“Oh, Leonard,” she rubbed her head affectionately against his cheek, “you’re always so kind and sweet. Always saying the right thing. But I still feel like a fraud. Like I shouldn’t even be alive.”

“That’s enough now, Jenny,” he said sternly, trying to contain his simmering anger, which wasn’t even directed at Hope, but at Starfleet. And fate. “Your life is infinitely precious. I don’t want to hear you talking like that again!”

Hope bristled at his words, and he was immediately sorry for sounding so harsh. He really needed to cut her some slack. She was in a most daunting situation, and he couldn’t even begin to imagine what she was going through right now. If anyone was entitled to say things they wouldn’t have said under different circumstances, it was certainly her.

“Listen,” he continued more gently. “What if you’d never learned the truth? Would you still feel like a fraud? Nothing has really changed beside the fact that now you know.”

“Well, I guess I wouldn’t,” she admitted hesitantly.

On impulse, McCoy pulled back a little, tilted his head, and brought his lips down on hers, surprising her with an intense and loving kiss.

“Feel good?” he chuckled, amused by the startled look in her eyes.

Hope just nodded and gave him a little smile.

“See? Nothing’s changed at all.”

Wrapping her arms around his waist, she gave him another one of her brave little smiles, and he almost wished she’d just burst into tears. Let it all out. That would be easier to handle, he knew how to comfort a crying Hope. The fact that he was still rather shaken himself, didn’t help, either, of course.

But he’d keep it together for her sake. Follow her lead. If she needed to put on a brave face and talk rather than cry her heart out, he could do that, too. There’d be plenty of time for tears later. In his experience, people often instinctively knew how best to deal with trauma. Different people had different ways of coping, and as a doctor, he’d learned to go with people’s instincts rather than psychological textbooks.

“It’s just that not being allowed to return to the past is one thing,” Hope tried to explain, looking at him with sorrowful eyes that were boring right into his soul. “But effectively not being able to, because there’s just nowhere for me to go, nowhere I belong, is something else entirely. Let’s face it, I’m nothing more than an accident.”

“And one for which I’ll be eternally grateful,” McCoy said softly, his voice cracking, glad to see the intense pain in her eyes fading a little as his words sank in. “Your place is here, you belong with me. I know it sounds awfully selfish, but for a while there, before I talked to Dakunia, I was terribly afraid you might have to go back eventually.”

“You mean when I’m forty-five?” Hope asked quietly, raising a gentle hand to his face and caressing his cheek affectionately.

“You had the same thought?” the doctor was taken aback.

“Of course, I did, Leonard,” she replied, endless love shining through the pain in her eyes. “I can put two and two together just like you can. Although it took me a while to figure out why you acted as if you might never see me again last night. And when I did, I immediately dismissed the idea again, telling myself I was wrong. Because I couldn't bear to even think about it any more than you could.”

Chapter 69

“At least, we won’t have to worry about that anymore,” McCoy smiled, lovingly covering Hope’s hand on his cheek with his own and bringing it to his lips for a gentle kiss.

Seeing her struggle with so many emotions at once, the fear, the insecurity, the confusion, and beneath them all the unbroken love for him, it was getting harder and harder to keep his own feelings under control. But he couldn't lose it now. This was not about him. Not about his worries, or his rage, or even the hurt he felt on her behalf. This was all about Hope. What she felt, what she needed. What he could do to make this easier for her. It was his job to get her through this.

“When I realised that our time together might be limited, twenty years suddenly seemed so terribly short,” Hope said, closing her eyes at the memory, and the doctor was glad to see her momentarily distracted from her self-doubts. “But then, an eternity with you wouldn’t be enough either.”

“I couldn't agree more,” McCoy had to blink back tears, deeply touched by her words. “Twenty years together is nowhere near enough. But if they were all I could have with you, I’d gladly take them anytime.”

Hope snuggled against him with a sigh, then suddenly pulled back again, and raised fearful eyes to him.

“What do you think will happen to me when I’m forty-five?” she asked, her voice a little shaky. “I might not have to go back in time, or rather, I won’t be able to. But do you think I’ll just cease to exist?”

The doctor suppressed a shudder, aware that he couldn't display even a hint of uncertainty now. The thought had crossed his mind, too, but he’d be damned if he told her that. It was enough that he was going to spend the next twenty years worrying about it. At least, he was used to living in constant fear of something or other. Hope wasn’t, and certainly shouldn’t have to be.

“Of course not, love,” he reassured her, willing himself to believe it, too. “And why should you? When you … came into existence, you were separated from your counterpart. Or your twin. I’m sure Spock could explain this much better, but the way I see it, you were ‘reborn’ that day. You’ve been living your own life ever since. Independently. Growing, maturing, following your own path. There’s no reason for this to suddenly end!”

“Oh, Leonard,” Hope sighed, falling back into the couch. “This is just one of a million questions running through my head! In a way it’s worse than suddenly waking up in another century. At least I knew who I was then. Or I thought I did, anyway. But now? Nothing’s real, everything’s changed, I don’t know what to believe anymore!”

“I hope you still believe that I love you,” McCoy smiled gently, his heart heavy as he felt himself falling into Hope’s dark, soulful eyes, which seemed to be pleading for help, and for answers. “And that you can still trust your feelings. The love you have for your friends, your job, for linguistics, for music, and dancing. All of this is real. All of this is you. Wonderful, incomparable you.”

“Thank you!” Hope whispered, nestling into his side as if she wanted to crawl inside him and hide there forever, and the doctor wrapped his arms tightly around her, making sure not to treat her like a breakable anymore, even though that was exactly how she felt to him at that moment.

“It’s perfectly normal that you’re confused, and unsure of a lot of things right now,” McCoy murmured softly into her hair, his hand drawing comforting circles on her back. “Everyone would! Your whole world’s just been upended. Everything you’ve believed to be true is suddenly being called into question, and it makes me so angry that you’ve had that done to you.”

He had to pause there for a moment, to fight back the anger that was just waiting to be released.

“I won’t tell you that you’ll be able to put all your doubts to rest in a day or two, either. This is going to take time. It’s a process. But I’m with you every step of the way. Whatever runs through your head, every doubt, every fear, every question, even anger, because you’re going to, and have every right to feel that, too, share it with me, and you’ll find nothing is as daunting as it seems.”

“I will, Leonard,” she mumbled into his shirt, and he tenderly kissed the top of her head, hoping she really would.

They were silent for some time, and the doctor could almost see the multitude of thoughts buzzing in Hope’s head, as she kept shifting around restlessly in his arms.

“You know, I can’t help wondering about the years I spent in the 20th century,” she finally said. “My whole childhood and youth. Was that really me? Did any of this actually happen to me, or are those just echoes of ‘her’ memories, too? Like the future ones?”

McCoy didn’t quite know how to answer that. Those were huge, philosophical questions. Besides, he’d never been comfortable with the whole time-travel conundrums and paradoxes in the first place. Fortunately, Hope didn’t really seem to expect a response anyway, her thoughts already moving on to the next question.

Abruptly disengaging herself from his embrace, she gave him a haunted look.

“You and Spock know my exact date of death, don’t you?” she asked, the colour draining from her face, then quickly corrected herself. “Her date of death. Do you think I’ll die at the same age? It sure would be disconcerting to know when you’re going to die!”

“Oh, really, Jenny!” the doctor exclaimed, shocked by the turn Hope’s agitated mind was taking, but then relented, seeing that the thought was deeply bothering her. “Nobody knows when they’re going to die. As I said before, you started your own, independent life the moment you were separated.”

Looking somewhat reassured by his answer, she breathed out a relieved little puff.

“And out of the two of us, I was obviously the lucky one,” she said after a moment, gazing lovingly into his eyes, “being the one who got to meet you.”

McCoy pressed a tender kiss on her lips, both responding to her sweet declaration of love and stalling for time. Her thoughts, and her mood swings, although understandable, were really starting to get to him. He needed to take action. A plan. Apparently, Hope wasn’t ready to let go and have a good, cathartic cry just yet, but questions like these weren’t healthy. And so very unlike her, they actually scared him.

As much as he loved to hold her, and knew that being in his arms gave her comfort, this time, it simply wasn’t enough to revert her to her grounded, confident self.

Time to bring out the big guns, he thought, tenderly stroking Hope’s hair and picturing her laughing and carefree again in his mind.

Waiting for inspiration to strike, he started by making her some tea. Her favourite ‘Tension Tamer’ blend, which Hope gratefully accepted. He could actually have done with a drink, too. A couple of fingers of bourbon would have been nice. But that would only give away how rattled he was himself.

He did have drinks with Jim or Scotty sometimes, of course, but he practically never drank when it was just the two of them. They had coffee, or maybe tea, or a fruit juice. Hope didn’t care for alcohol, and somehow, he never even thought of having a drink when he was with her.

Besides, McCoy needed a clear head. Hope was very fragile at the moment, and he needed to observe her closely. So, tea it was for him, too. He just prayed that he wouldn’t get called to an emergency, because there was no way he could leave her alone right now. Not even for a minute.

As he sat down again, cup in hand, an idea struck him. Music. Hope lived and breathed music and rhythm. It was her life. She expressed herself through singing and dancing. It had even helped with her amnesia. Maybe it would help again? At least calm her down enough to get her to sleep a little. That might give her a new perspective in the morning, and perhaps, with a little distance, things might not seem as overwhelming anymore.

He could certainly do with some rest, too. To give him the chance to process everything himself. In order to counsel her well, to really be of help to her, he desperately needed to get a grip on his own thoughts and emotions first. Beginning with purging his anger somehow.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Jenny was sipping her tea, feeling a little more like herself again. She was grateful that Leonard had sent the captain and Spock away, and was now just quietly being there for her, giving her space to process things in her own way and time, yet responding to her every thought and mood.

He’d always been good at being subtly comforting and supportive, taking up her random, troubled thoughts and guiding them in a healthier, more fruitful direction. Discreetly taking charge without being obtrusive.

Putting his cup swiftly down on the couch table, the doctor suddenly jumped up, an almost excited look on his face as he went to grab his PADD from the desk and started tapping away on it.

“Remember how our song always helped when we were going through a rough patch?” he asked, casting her an affectionate glance before returning his attention to whatever he was busily typing. “We danced to it on the beach that unfortunate evening before you had to report to the Lexington. And then it brought you back to me, after your bout of amnesia.”

“It surely did, and I couldn't be more grateful,” she smiled, taking the hand he offered and letting him pull her to her feet.

“You certainly loved country music before you met me,” Leonard said, pulling her close and starting to gently sway to the first bars of ‘It’s Your Love’, “and Tim McGraw and Faith Hill might always have been your favourite singers, but this is our song. Yours and mine, and no one else’s. You were your own person when we first sang it together that evening down in sickbay, a whole person, a complete person, and not to forget the most amazing person I’d ever met. You couldn't have been more real, even though I confess, I sometimes suspected you to be an angel.”

The doctor leaned down to kiss her cheek so delicately, Jenny barely felt his lips on her skin, her heart brimming over with love for the man who never failed to make her feel special, finding ever new ways to show her how precious she was to him, and how his whole life revolved around her.

“And if the memories of your childhood seem as real as those of you and me, then they undeniably are,” he went on softly, moving with her in slow circles to the music. “Everything you remember being is real, just as everything you are now is.”

Jenny nodded, letting his words sink in, then rested her forehead against Leonard’s shoulder and just lost herself in the beautiful song. Their song.

And who I am now Is who I wanted to be And now that we’re together I’m stronger than ever I’m happy and free

She was still feeling unsettled by everything she’d learned today, and she’d certainly stumble upon more scary questions the more she thought about it. But for the moment, safe and loved in Leonard’s arms, she felt almost at peace, knowing that, as long as he loved her, she was going to be all right.

It’s your love It just does something to me It sends a shock right through me I can’t get enough And if you wonder About the spell I’m under Oh, it’s your love

When the song ended, Jenny took a step back, expecting Leonard to take her back to the couch to talk some more. But when she looked up, he gently shook his head, and she felt herself drowning in his beautiful eyes that were gazing at her with such warmth and tenderness, it nearly took her breath away. Even after all this time, even in a situation like this, he still had the power to make her heart skip a beat just by looking at her.

Of course, she knew exactly what he was doing, and why. But having his love and kindness give her a break from all the erratic and disheartening thoughts that had been threatening to overwhelm her, was certainly more than welcome.

“There’s more,” he whispered, lovingly pulling her back into his arms, as Tim McGraw’s voice filled the room once more. “So many more songs we’ve enjoyed together since you danced into my life, filling it with joy and happiness. Just try to relax a little and listen.”

I used to think that love would never find me And the one who cares was lost somewhere in time But when you found me I knew I’d found forever

Leonard’s arms tightened around her, and Jenny could feel his heart beating strong against her cheek.

Your sweet love saved me not a moment too soon

This time, when the song finished, she just stayed nestled into his embrace, confident that he’d put a few more on his impromptu playlist. Leonard was nothing if not creative in helping her through difficult times.

And sure enough, there was George Strait with another favourite song of hers. She’d never told Leonard this, but her heart ached a little every time she listened to the song, because the lyrics always painfully reminded her that this was exactly how the doctor saw himself.

I’m not the hero who will always save the day Don’t always wear the white hat, don’t always know the way I may not even be the dream you wanted to come true

Jenny raised her head, giving the doctor a tender look, mouthing, “You know you are!” and earning herself a gentle kiss on the nose, as he touched a finger to his ear, indicating that he wanted her to keep listening.

Remember that there’s someone there whose heart is always true Someone there to help you make it through I’ll always be the man in love with you

Leonard had stopped dancing and was looking at her intently.

“Never forget that,” he said earnestly. “Whatever life has in store for us, together, we’ll always make it through.”

Starting to move to the music again, he drew her into a soft kiss, tenderly affirming his words, and all of Jenny’s daunting thoughts suddenly seemed lightyears away. Of course, she knew that they’d be back to haunt her. She couldn't simply ignore the things she’d learned today. They’d changed everything. But just knowing that Leonard would be there when her fears and doubts returned, filled her with a sense of calm confidence. With him by her side, she was ready to face anything.

And with this reassuring thought in mind, Jenny wrapped her arms tightly around the doctor’s waist, basking in his warm embrace as the next song started to play and Travis Tritt’s words touched her heart like they never had before.

‘Cause I love you more than you’ll ever know More than life, more than I’ve ever loved before It’s absurd, and beyond words, I couldn't want you more And when I try to pour my heart out to you I’m not sure it shows That I love you more than you’ll ever know

-x-x-x-x-x-

A/N: I couldn't resist, this chapter just called for some soothing background music.

So, if you’re interested, this is

McCoy’s playlist: Tim McGraw & Faith Hill – It’s Your Love Tim McGraw – Not a Moment Too Soon George Strait – The Man In Love With You Travis Tritt – More Than You’ll Ever Know

Chapter 70

Nothing mattered but the woman in his arms. Holding her, protecting her, making her feel safe and loved was all McCoy cared about with Travis Tritt singing straight from his heart and Hope nestling into his embrace with her unique brand of utter trust and unbridled affection. Feeling her pressing against him, virtually clinging to him, wriggling a little further into his arms with every swaying step to the music, nearly undid him. His own emotions in turmoil and precariously close to the surface after the day they’d had, the doctor didn’t even mind coming across as overprotective anymore. He just wanted to enfold her. All of her.

He’d promised they’d make it through anything together, and he’d meant it. In fact, he’d never been more serious about anything. That tender, loving look she’d cast him when George Strait had been singing about not being quite the hero, had touched him to the core. Lifting him up as much as weighing him down with the pressure of living up to her image of him. Although putting pressure on him was certainly the last thing Hope had intended. She just had no idea what a single look from her did to him. How it made his heart soar, seeing the endless love in her eyes, while at the same time almost crushing him under the weight of responsibility at that absolute trust showing on her face.

Hope was neither naive nor helpless. Far from it. But she had this total faith in his ability to fix anything and everything, putting him right up there with Kirk and the other ‘heroes’ aboard the Enterprise, including herself, if anyone cared to ask McCoy. He’d become used to people expecting miracles from him as a doctor, but Hope’s endearing faith was not limited to his medical skills. When she looked at him with those wide, trusting eyes, she almost made him feel like a real hero. And just the thought of disappointing her was unbearable. He’d doubtlessly do things for her that he wouldn’t even dream of trying otherwise. In a manner of speaking, Hope was his superpower.

The end of the playlist he’d hastily put together brought him back to the present, and he was glad to see that it had obviously had the desired effect. Hope seemed a lot calmer now, and when she stepped out of his embrace, smiling up at him fondly, she appeared much more at peace with herself again. At least for the time being. What more could he ask?

“How about a little snack?” the doctor suggested hopefully, his stomach suddenly reminding him that neither of them had had anything to eat since lunch, or was that breakfast? “I could fix us a quick chicken sandwich or something?”

“Thanks, but I’m not hungry at all,” she declined with a warm smile, pecking him on the cheek before draining the last of her tea and cleaning up her cup.

McCoy left it at that. Hope had been really good following his dietary guidelines lately, so skipping one meal wasn’t going to kill her.

“I’d rather just go to bed, if you don’t mind,” she continued. “Not sure if I can, but thanks to you I’m feeling much better now, so I’d like to give sleep a try. Sometimes, all you need is a fresh eye in the morning for things to start looking up again.”

“I couldn't have put it better, love” the doctor agreed, putting a gentle arm around her waist to steer her towards their sleeping area, grateful to see her so determinedly positive again. “Let’s just go to bed. Tomorrow’s a new day.”

“Oh Leonard, you don’t have to go to sleep just yet. It’s not that late,” Hope replied a little too quickly, turning around and gently, but firmly stopping him with both hands against his chest. “You go ahead and have that sandwich. I’ll be all right.”

It was clear that she didn’t want him to come to bed with her, and that stung, even more than he cared to admit. But after what she’d been through, she had, of course, every right to ask for a little space. To find herself, clear her mind, sort her thoughts, whatever she thought she needed to do. It was McCoy, who couldn't bear to let go of her for even a minute. Who longed to hold her tight and reassure himself that she was still there, solid and unharmed. But that was his problem. Not hers.

So, taking the hint, the doctor backed off, giving her another brief hug and planting a tender kiss on her forehead before releasing her from his clasp.

“All right, love. Sleep tight!”

And while Hope disappeared into the bathroom to get ready for the night, McCoy settled down on the couch with his PADD, determined to give her the space she wanted and needed, while still keeping a close eye on her. No matter how much she thought she wanted to be left alone now, she really needed to be cared for.

Mustering up all his self-restraint, the doctor didn’t even look up when he heard her return from the bathroom and slip into bed, pretending to be totally engrossed in his PADD.

“Leonard?” she called out softly, and his head flew up immediately.

“Yes, love?” he asked, fighting the urge to get up and hurry over to where she was sitting up in bed.

“Could you please,” she began hesitantly, not meeting his eye.

“Could I what?” he prompted gently, when she hadn’t said another word for almost a minute.

“It’s just that,” she started again, but trailed off once more.

“Whatever you need!” he set his PADD aside, but stayed put on the couch.

“Just don’t,” Hope went on, shaking her head, still looking for the right words.

“Anything, Jenny! But you’ll have to tell me,” McCoy said softly, relieved when she finally looked at him.

“I know it’s still early, but can you please stay here? Don’t go away!”

“Of course, I’m staying, love!” he exclaimed, blinking rapidly to keep from tearing up. “Don’t you worry, I’m not going anywhere tonight.”

The doctor’s heart plummeted, as it hit him how scared, and lost, and insecure Hope must be feeling to outright ask him to stay. Normally, if anything, she’d have encouraged him to ‘go and have fun’ or something like that, trying to assure him that she was all right, even though she quite obviously wasn’t. Not that he’d have taken her up on it, of course, but just the fact that she wasn’t even pretending to be okay, explicitly asking him not to leave her alone instead, was breaking his heart.

“Want me to come to bed after all?” he asked tentatively, wishing to offer without being pushy.

“No, no, I’m perfectly fine with you reading on the couch,” she smiled gratefully, lying down and snuggling into the covers. “I just wouldn’t want to be all by myself right now. Thank you, Leonard. For everything. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” McCoy murmured, not quite trusting his voice, his eyes glued to her back as she rolled over, facing away from him.

He didn’t even look at his PADD after that, unable to tear his gaze away from Hope lying there in their bed, only a few feet from him, yet somehow so far away. Every fibre in his body was screaming for him to go and hold her, talk to her, comfort her, be there for her. But he knew that he had to let her do this her own way. That this was the kind of support she needed most right now. Time to process everything she’d found out today in peace, while knowing that he had her back and was quietly waiting, ready to catch her the moment she started to fall.

It took a long time, and lots of fidgeting and sighing, for Hope to finally fall asleep, the doctor’s eyes never leaving her familiar form, as he tried to sift through his own thoughts and find answers to the many questions that kept arising the more he chewed over all the new facts and insights. And, of course, there was still the matter of Section 31 that he needed to discuss with Hope in more detail as soon as she was ready to deal with that on top of everything else. He really didn’t want to add to her worries, but this was too dangerous to take lightly, and he had a feeling that she hadn’t quite grasped the seriousness of the issue, what with everything else she’d had thrown at her today.

McCoy briefly thought about sleeping on the couch, or even not at all, but then decided that she wouldn’t mind him joining her in bed for the night. It was his bed, too, after all, and it wasn’t as if they’d had a fight or anything. So, when he was quite sure that she was fast asleep, he got undressed, ordered the lights out, and slid between the sheets next to her. It was the only way he’d be able to get any sleep at all tonight. He needed to feel her. Her warm, delicate body against his, for his own sake as much as hers. To be there to soothe her, when she moaned in her sleep, and, above all, when she woke up.

-x-x-x-x-x-

It would have been so easy to just stay in Leonard’s comforting arms and let him take care of her. To go on dancing and pretend that nothing had changed, that this was just another tender evening with her wonderful, loving fiancé. Everything always seemed easy when he was holding her. But this wasn’t, and she needed time to reflect on it. Space to think about it without the doctor making it seem to just go away. Because it wouldn't. She couldn’t hide forever, she had to face reality sometime. And she wanted to do that sooner rather than later. For her sake as much as Leonard’s.

He’d been terrific, of course. He always was. Loving, kind, supportive, her rock in every way. Steadfast and unwavering. But despite his endeavours to the contrary, Jenny had seen how this was wearing him down. She’d seen his eyes well up several times, watched him run tired hands over his face when he thought she wasn’t looking. Had felt his heart breaking with every fearful question she’d asked, knowing fully well that he couldn’t have all the answers, yet unreasonably and childishly expecting him to.

Despite quite obviously being shaken to the core himself, Leonard had tried to keep strong for her at all costs. And he was the strongest person she knew when it came to keeping it together for his friends’ sake or professional reasons. Or usually both. But Jenny also knew the toll it took on him, how it tore him up inside. Because no matter how crusty he appeared on the outside, there was no question that he had the softest heart. Kind, and vulnerable. So easily hurt. And today, she sadly acknowledged, she’d brought him close to breaking point.

His disappointment at her wanting to go to bed alone had been tangible, and she’d felt bad about it. But much as she would have loved some cuddles, she was grateful that he hadn’t made any move in that direction. Instead, the doctor had graciously accepted, probably even anticipated, that she needed space. The chance to reflect on this whole bizarre situation, and time alone to get her head around the fact that she’d been created rather than born and didn’t know who or what she really was anymore. Or if she was even human.

A fact that, strangely, hadn’t seemed to faze Leonard at all, his main concern apparently being to keep her safe from this Section 31. To him Jenny was still real and human enough. And with him being a doctor, that had reassured her immensely. But maybe he’d still get there. Maybe he hadn’t had enough time to really let all the news sink in yet. He’d only learned about the whole thing literally minutes before her. Yet, somehow, she didn’t actually expect him to change his mind. His reasoning had been sound enough. And paired with his treating her exactly the same way as always, it had almost convinced her of being a real person, after all.

But she needed to come to that conclusion herself. So far, she couldn’t help feeling that something was amiss. As if she were suddenly a mere part of someone else, with the rest missing. Somehow, she just didn’t feel whole anymore. Like a two-dimensional projection, no matter how often Leonard had assured her to the contrary. She was confident that she would eventually make her peace with her new self. At least she knew that was what she wanted. But it would take time to get there. To feel comfortable and complete in her own skin again.

Just as it would, once more, take all of poor Leonard’s love, and patience, and compassion, to help her through a difficult time, Jenny thought wryly, immensely grateful for the doctor’s comforting presence only a heartbeat away. And he wasn’t even complaining. Hadn’t said a word that would hint at him being fed up with her being a constant pain in the neck, perpetually causing him new worries and headache. He’d never do that. She even believed that he was genuinely glad to be there for her. Unceasingly and unconditionally.

Jenny smiled at the thought that it probably hadn’t even occurred to him that he could just walk away. That he wasn’t obligated to stay with her and face all of her struggles. Knowing that she still meant so much to him, that his feelings hadn’t changed a bit after all he’d learned about her today, made her feel a little more ‘intact’ again. He’d been worried, yes, and angry on her behalf, but neither freaked out nor disgusted, treating her with the same caring kindness he always had.

Nevertheless, she was sorry to put him through this. To draw him into yet another of her life’s messes. He didn’t need that, he had enough worries of his own. And she was supposed to make life easier for him. More carefree, less complicated. But without meaning to, she seemed to keep putting him through the wringer.

With all those different kinds of thoughts buzzing through her head, Jenny had finally fallen into troubled sleep, too exhausted to try and make sense of anything anymore. And even though giving herself a little space and going to bed alone had been her idea, she deeply appreciated the tender arm that unfailingly wrapped around her every time she woke up with a start.

x-x-x-x-x-

Continue to: Chapter 71

Go back to: Chapters 1-5 Chapters 6-10 Chapters 11-15 Chapters 16-20 Chapters 21-25 Chapters 26-30 Chapters 31-35 Chapters 36-40 Chapters 41-45 Chapters 46-50 Chapters 51-55 Chapters 56-60 Chapters 61-65

Or read it on AO3: Another Life

************ Disclaimer: Nothing of or associated with Star Trek is mine – it all belongs to Paramount / ViacomCBS (or whoever else is currently holding the rights). This is a work of fanfiction, no infringement intended.

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