Another Life - a Star Trek fic - (Chapters 61 - 65)
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 61
“Jesus, Spock! What took you so long?” McCoy barked the moment the first officer pulled his fingers off Hope’s face, darting over to where she was sitting, pale-faced and dazed, and protectively throwing his arms around her.
Condemned to inaction, not even allowed to touch her for reassurance and support while Spock and Hope had been locked in the mind-meld, McCoy had virtually been climbing the walls, one step closer to losing his mind with every passing minute. But the first officer’s instructions had been very clear in that regard.
“It has barely been five minutes, Doctor,” the Vulcan stated calmly, and to his surprise, McCoy thought he could detect actual understanding in Spock’s voice, his suspicion substantially supported by the lack of decimal places and generally rather vague specification of the time that had passed.
“Whatever,” he grumbled, the veins in his neck pulsating with agitation, then, noticing that Spock looked as close to exhausted as a Vulcan could, the doctor relented, asking more gently, “Are you all right? Both of you?”
“I’m fine Leonard, don’t worry” Hope smiled up at him tiredly, taking a deep breath and nestling deeper into his arms.
Spock simply nodded, briefly meeting McCoy’s eyes, then returned his gaze to Hope, as if studying her. Or maybe he was just trying to figure out how best to start the conversation that undoubtedly was in order now.
“Were those really my sons?” Hope beat him to it, her voice a heart-rending mixture of hope, dread, and plain disbelief.
“It seems they were, but I don’t have an explanation yet,” Spock responded earnestly, and the doctor nearly keeled over with shock.
“What are you talking about?” he demanded to know, but the first officer ignored him, the Vulcan’s eyes firmly fixed on Hope’s face.
“But how could I forget my own children?” Hope all but wailed, gripping McCoy’s arms hard and clinging on to them as if to a lifeline.
The doctor tightened his embrace, wanting nothing more than to be her safe haven, the rock she could hold on to in this bizarre and confusing situation, never mind his own stupefaction.
“You didn’t,” Spock replied, his voice as kind and reassuring as McCoy had ever heard it. “In fact, I think it was your love for them that opened that passage wide enough to let their memory seep through.”
“What passage?” McCoy blurted out, getting more confused with every word he heard, but finding himself still being ignored.
“What else did you find in that place?” Hope asked quietly, retreating further into the doctor’s arms, quite obviously needing to know, yet afraid to find out.
“What place?” McCoy asked meekly, not really expecting anyone to answer his questions anymore, just glad that Hope was at least aware enough of his presence to seek comfort in his touch and embrace.
“Do you recall anything about that place?” Spock responded to Hope’s question, sounding uncharacteristically evasive, almost as if he were reluctant to divulge too much of the information he’d just gathered, even – or especially? – to her.
“Nothing. You told me to stay behind, so I did.”
“You left her alone?” McCoy flared up incredulously, allowing the strain of being a helpless bystander to manifest as rage directed towards the Vulcan.
“So, what did you find?” Hope urged the first officer, seemingly oblivious to the doctor’s outrage.
“Plenty,” was Spock’s untypically vague answer.
Another one. McCoy was starting to worry in earnest now.
“However,” the Vulcan continued, “I’d prefer to research some things and confer with the doctor in private before going into any detail with you.”
Thank God, someone’s still aware of my existence!
“Geez! Will you stop beating about the bush?” Hope exclaimed exasperatedly, pushing away from McCoy and sounding almost petulant. “Can’t you see that I need to know?”
“And you will,” the Vulcan replied calmly. “But the information is quite extensive and rather confusing. And I don’t think your mind is ready for the whole of it yet. There must be a reason for you to have blocked all of it in the first place.”
“Still, I have a right to know. It’s my mind, isn’t it?” Hope tried again, but with less vehemence this time.
The fight clearly having gone out of her, she let McCoy pull her back into his arms, rested the back of her head against his chest, and gently squeezed his hands when he softly kissed her hair, the doctor’s heart brimming over with tender affection and the desire to just wrap her up tightly and make all of her troubles go away.
“Do you trust me?” Spock asked, sitting up even straighter, his tone serious, but his eyes warm and kind.
“Of course!” Hope answered without hesitation.
“And there’s no question you trust Dr. McCoy, so will you give me permission to consult with him first?”
“Consult about what?” she shot back promptly.
“Jenny,” the Vulcan said softly, giving no indication that his patience might be wearing thin, other than, perhaps, it being the first time the doctor had ever heard him addressing Hope by her first name. “You need to know that I have been harbouring certain suspicions ever since I learned about your past.”
“What kind of suspicions?” Hope asked, sounding completely perplexed, and McCoy was immediately alert and intrigued, too.
“Well, when Dr. McCoy expressed reasonable doubt after you’d first told us about your history, I took the liberty to check some facts, and have been doing some research and a number of experiments ever since.”
“You doubted me?” Hope turned around to raise accusing eyes to the doctor, who was busy considering the best way to kill that big-mouthed first officer.
“Not you, love,” he tried to soothe her, pulling up a chair to sit down next to her while keeping one arm firmly wrapped around her shoulders. “But I did have my doubts about Starfleet’s story. You said yourself that you can’t remember anything about your illness, that the whole leukaemia scenario doesn’t seem to add up. And I told you long ago that I couldn't find any trace of it in your blood.”
“You’re right, of course, I’m sorry,” Hope sighed, leaning over to kiss his cheek, “I didn’t mean to snap at you. This is all just so frustrating and unsettling.”
“I know, love,” the doctor murmured, touching a gentle hand to her cheek, her growing distress tearing at his heart.
“Why didn’t you say anything, Spock?” Hope asked, returning her gaze to the Vulcan.
“Because none of the facts I found were actual proof. There was no conclusive evidence. Tim McGraw, for example.”
“Tim McGraw?” Hope and McCoy repeated in unison, exchanging confused glances.
“Well, you repeatedly mentioned that he and his wife were your favourite ‘Nashville couple’, as you called them, and that you loved their music. But when I researched them, I found that both their first ‘albums’ were only released in 1993, and that they didn’t get married until 1996, all of which happened after you were allegedly put into stasis. Then I included some songs from the early 21st century in the playlist that Uhura and I prepared for you. And you recognised them all.”
Hope had been listening with bated breath, her body tense under McCoy’s touch, and the doctor could only imagine how disturbing all this new information must be for her.
“So, it’s true then? I was still around after 1991? Having kids and everything?”
All the different emotions, so plainly visible on Hope’s face, the confusion, the hope, the doubt, the fear, nearly broke the doctor’s heart, adding to his own concerns and misgivings. He’d always doubted Starfleet’s official reasons for wanting to keep Hope’s history secret, suspecting that there was more to her past that they didn’t want her – or anybody else – to know.
“Well, not necessarily,” Spock explained. “There’s a 68.7% chance that you could have heard any of the songs after you arrived in our time, making you think you still knew them from before.”
“All of them?” Hope cut in, her cheeks tinged with a dark shade of pink from the excitement of all that could possibly mean, the good as well as the bad.
“No,” the first officer continued, “that would have been my next observation. The probability of you having heard all of them in this century for the first time is no more than 1.27%.”
“Oh,” was all Hope said and McCoy thought.
The doctor’s head was spinning with all the implications and possible consequences of this revelation, and his mind kept coming back to the mystery of Hope being a mother without having born children.
Had she been in a relationship other than that with Tom? One that she’d blocked from her memory? And if so, for what reason? That thought alone opened a whole new can of worms, instantly creating images of all kinds of abuse, sending shivers of fear and impotent rage down McCoy’s spine.
Had she, by any chance, had step-children? Or was it possible that she was in fact older than her body suggested, and actually had had children without leaving any physical marks or medical proof?
“Coming back to the matter at hand,” Spock’s voice pulled the doctor back to the present, “would it be all right with you, if I filled Dr. McCoy in on everything?”
“You mean he can know, but I can’t?” Hope gave a short, disbelieving laugh.
“Well, I did loosen all your memories, but just like when you had amnesia, you need to let them come back to you unprompted, or you’ll never know what is real and what is just a product of what you’ve been told.”
“He’s right love,” McCoy agreed softly, gently turning her around to face him. “Spock’s just trying to help.”
“I know,” Hope sighed, resting her forehead against his shoulder, and the doctor tenderly stroked her hair. “It’s just so hard. It is my life we’re talking about after all. But yes, of course, I’m all right with you learning all about me.”
And turning back to the first officer, she smiled, “Go ahead, I don’t have secrets from Leonard. Just like I suppose I don’t have secrets from you anymore.”
-x-x-x-x-x-
The Vulcan raised a bemused eyebrow, but before he had the chance to say anything, Jenny quickly added, “Just kidding, Mr. Spock. I’m really grateful for what you did!”
That seemed to appease the first officer, who gave her a curt nod before addressing McCoy, “I’d like to share as much as possible with you, Doctor, and the most efficient way to do that would be to meld with you, too. Would you allow me to do that?”
Feeling Leonard grip her shoulder sharply, Jenny turned and saw that the doctor’s face seemed almost frozen in fear.
“To be honest, Mr. Spock,” he said, and Jenny could hear a slight tremble in his voice, “I don’t feel comfortable with someone poking around in my head. You know that.”
“I’m quite aware of your reluctance, Doctor. You’ve expressed your dislike of ‘Vulcan voodoo’, as you call it, numerous times. But since it was you who suggested melding with Lt. Hope in the first place, I thought you might have overcome your aversion.”
Jenny had to admit that she’d thought the exact same thing, and now wondered what the story behind Leonard’s sudden change of heart was. After all, he hadn’t seemed worried about mind-melds in the least, when he’d made the suggestion. She’d have to follow that up later, when she was alone with the doctor again.
“It would only have to be a very light, superficial meld, anyway. No poking around, as you put it,” the first officer explained, but Jenny could tell that McCoy’s mind was made up.
“I’d rather not, Spock. Unless it’s imperative.”
“It is not,” the Vulcan confirmed, “but telling you everything would take much too long. I’d have to edit, tell you only what I consider the most important facts. And, of course, I’d have to ask Lt. Hope to give us the room.”
McCoy cast Jenny a questioning glance, his eyes begging her to agree, and, of course, she immediately nodded her consent. Her heart went out to the doctor, as it dawned on her just how hard suggesting the mind-meld must have been for him. More proof of how deeply he loved her, and how far he was willing to go to help her.
“Of course, anything you suggest, Mr. Spock. I’ll leave you two to discuss whatever you found in my head,” Jenny tried to sound light-hearted, getting up and smiling lovingly at the doctor, as she patiently waited for him to finish running his omnipresent tricorder over her. “Just one more thing. Is it bad?”
The first officer took a moment to contemplate her question, then met her eyes and told her, “Truthfully, I can’t be completely sure yet, but everything considered, I really don’t think so.”
Feeling somewhat relieved by Spock’s words, Jenny hugged Leonard tightly and whispered, “I love you so much!” in his ear, before leaving the room to find a quiet spot for herself and let the events and impressions of the past hour settle.
If there was anyone who could help her solve this mystery, which had taken on a whole new dimension today, it was those two marvellous men, both of whom she would trust with her life anytime.
Chapter 62
I love you, too! More than you’ll ever know! McCoy thought fondly, following Hope with his eyes until she was almost out the door, then decided that she couldn't be left alone after what she’d just been through.
“Jenny, wait!” he called out, just in time before the doors closed behind her. “Don’t go! You really shouldn’t be alone now.”
Hope turned around and smiled, then came back to where he’d jumped up from his chair and was standing with his arms wide open for her to step in. She pressed a gentle kiss on his lips and let him hold her for a moment, hugging him tightly while he nearly crushed her, and it almost felt to McCoy as if she were trying to calm and comfort him rather than the other way round.
“We can talk later, Doctor, if you’re not comfortable to do so now,” Spock said, getting up and moving towards the door, but Hope quickly spun around to stop the Vulcan.
“No, Mr. Spock, please stay!” she exclaimed, her hands gently pushing against McCoy’s chest, clearly expecting him to let her go.
But he couldn't. She needed to be taken care of, and he needed to be there for her, hold her and talk to her. Now. She’d looked so rattled coming out of the mind-meld, and understandably so. Even if Spock had been as careful, gentle and respectful as he’d promised, the doctor had to make sure that Hope hadn’t suffered any emotional harm from having her mind probed. From having someone intrude into her most private thoughts and feelings, into her most private self. He needed to know that she didn’t feel violated in the least.
“Leonard,” she said softly, writhing in McCoy’s arms to extract herself from his embrace, “I know you want to help and protect me, but please believe me when I tell you I’m fine! And I couldn't talk to you about what’s just happened yet, anyway. I need a little time to sort this out by myself first.”
She gently took hold of his hands behind her back to bring them forward, then held them against her chest over her heart, tenderly covering them with her own.
“The one thing you can do for me right now is listen to whatever Spock wants to tell you and discuss with you. So that he can finally, finally tell me what I really want to know. What I need to know. Can you do that for me?”
“Of course, love,” the doctor murmured, still reluctant to let her go but pulling his hands out from under hers anyway.
“I promise I’ll be all right. You’ll find me in your quarters, busy making sense of everything I’ve just experienced, and eagerly waiting for the two of you to shed some light.”
With one more, swift hug and kiss, Hope turned around and hurried out the door. And this time, McCoy didn’t stop her. Going against what every cell in his body was screaming to do, he let her go. Because she was right. To actually help her, he really needed to know what was going on. He needed Spock to tell him everything.
If only he could have agreed to a mind-meld. Quick and thorough, and Hope could have stayed here. Close to him. But he’d panicked. No matter how much he knew he could trust Spock, his subconscious just wasn’t cooperating. And neither was his body. The mere thought of someone – anyone – entering his mind had almost made him hyperventilate. He simply couldn't do it. Not even for Hope.
-x-x-x-x-x-
Barely looking at anyone who passed her by in the corridors, Jenny practically flew to McCoy’s quarters, only relaxing after the doors had closed behind her. For a moment or two, she just stood there, her mind totally blank, yet overflowing with thoughts and impressions at the same time. She was standing completely still, afraid that any random move or thought might supplant something important she’d learned during the mind-meld. The feeling that every single thing, every little detail was immensely important and couldn't be lost was almost overwhelming.
And then there was this one thing she just couldn't get her head around. She was a mother. Or was she? After all, those boys, who’d meant the world to her in her dreams, hadn’t even registered in her conscious mind until recently. She had no idea how it was even possible, but if they really were her sons, what kind of mother was she anyway? What mother would simply forget her children? And why? What had become of them? Were they still alive or had she left them in the 20th century? And how was she even old enough? She sure didn’t feel a day older than twenty-five. In fact, she’d never felt more like a young, helpless girl than she did right now.
Too many questions. Too many blanks.
Jenny prayed that it was all just a bad dream, yet she longed to be this mother from the bottom of her heart. Memories were starting to surface fast, and she felt her love for the boys grow with every single one of them, even though they all were a bit of a blur. She had no context, no idea where or when those memories belonged, but all kinds of images kept flooding her mind. Laughter, and tears, and cuddles. So real, so familiar, and yet so impossible. How could she have left her kids? And how could she ever make it up to them?
Stop! she almost cried out loud.
She had to stop this steady stream of images before it overwhelmed her. There was no use getting all worked up about something that might not even be real. No, Jenny needed to wait for Leonard and Spock to give her some answers. For Leonard to hold her and keep her head from exploding. For Leonard to make this all right. For Leonard, full stop. Jenny felt she’d never needed him more than now. Hoping to calm down, she conjured up his comforting smile, his grounding touch, his soothing voice, and tried to focus on analysing the other aspects of the mind-meld.
Until Spock had come across Sammy and Phil – when had she started using their names so naturally? – in that eerie tunnel, the whole experience had actually been pleasant. It had been nice to revisit so many memories, to share them with Spock in a way she’d never be able to share them with anyone else, not even Leonard. The way Spock had experienced her past just didn’t compare to simply recounting single episodes to someone who couldn't imagine what her ‘first world’ had been like.
Leonard melding with Spock to experience this, too, would have been wonderful. The opportunity of a lifetime. He always wanted to know everything about Jenny’s past, but no matter how attentively he listened to her tales, he’d never come close to really understand. Not like a mind-meld would have made possible. But, of course, Jenny respected that he hadn’t wanted that. Although she’d really have to get to the bottom of why Spock’s suggestion had scared him so much that, for a second, he’d looked like he might pass out with fear.
He must have gone through some really traumatising experience with a mind-meld, even though Jenny had no idea where or when that might have been. Leonard had never talked about or even hinted at anything like that. But then, he wouldn’t, would he? Concerned as he always was about her well-being, Jenny often felt that he didn’t seem to care a lot about his own. That had become her responsibility. And one she took very seriously.
She’d definitely follow up the mind-meld issue once the current mystery was solved. One thing at a time, though. There was no use trying to get the doctor to deal with his own problems while he was still helping Jenny with one of hers. She knew him that well. For now, she really needed to focus on making sense of her own mind-meld experience. But while she was waiting for news from Spock and McCoy, her thoughts kept circling back to Leonard’s intense reaction.
Having felt increasingly uneasy herself, when she’d followed Spock through that winding tunnel, until he’d finally convinced her to let him go on alone, Jenny understood that a mind-meld could also be a less than pleasant experience. But although she’d certainly felt reluctant and afraid of what they might find, at no point had she felt overpowered or pressured in any way. Spock had been nothing but gentle and supportive, and she’d felt well protected the whole time. He’d thoughtfully guided her through the whole process, just like he’d guided her through that daunting bomb-defusing task on her very first mission.
No, while admittedly difficult in parts, the mind-meld hadn’t been a scary or threatening experience at all. Whatever had Leonard so terrified, must have been something else entirely. And certainly nothing to do with Spock, because in that case, the doctor would never have let her meld with him in the first place. And judging from Spock’s reaction, although obviously anticipating a certain reluctance regarding ‘Vulcan voodoo’, the first officer had seemed rather surprised by McCoy’s categorical refusal, too.
-x-x-x-x-x-
“So, please spill, Mr. Spock,” McCoy burst out as soon as he’d pushed all concerns about Hope to the back of his mind, trying to fully concentrate on what the Vulcan had to say. “What did take you so long? I was really getting worried there!”
“There was a lot to discover,” the first officer replied mildly. “A whole new life full of memories. Besides, with the human mind it’s not always easy to tell fact from fiction. And you wanted me to find out about facts, didn’t you?”
“Yes, of course. Sorry, Spock,” the doctor relented. “But this not knowing is driving me up the walls.”
“Understandable,” was the Vulcan’s short response, before his earlier words suddenly hit home.
“Wait, what do you mean by ‘a whole new life full of memories’?” McCoy was stumbling over his words. “Tell me everything, Spock! And you’d better start from the beginning!”
So the first officer filled him in, trying to be as concise as possible, and the doctor’s eyes grew wider with every word coming out of the Vulcan’s mouth.
“You’re actually suggesting that she’s a mother of two, and that those boys are, in fact, her sons?” McCoy summed up what he’d just heard, his voice audibly incredulous.
“I believe that is what I just said,” Spock confirmed, and the doctor could practically hear the sigh that the first officer skilfully suppressed.
“But how could that be? Even if, disregarding all medical proof to the contrary, she’d had a baby as young as, say, fifteen, that kid could have been no more than five years old when she was put into stasis.”
“As I have already told Lt. Hope, I do not have an explanation yet. That is why immediate historical research is essential, and I presume that you would like to help me.”
“You bet I would, Spock,” McCoy eagerly announced, ready to get going at once. “Where do we start? What’s your theory? You do have a theory, don’t you?”
“Indeed, I have several,” the Vulcan nodded. “But I haven’t yet informed you about everything, Doctor.”
“What else, Spock?” McCoy glared at the first officer. “You told me she has two teenage sons, that Dakunia is somehow involved in all this, what else can there be?”
Exasperated, the doctor felt himself growing annoyed with Spock, fully aware of how unfair it was to vent on his friend, but helpless to stop himself. Spock was only the messenger, trying to help. But thankfully, the Vulcan had known him long enough not to take offence at his outbursts. Or at least the doctor hoped so.
“When I told you I saw Hope with her sons,” Spock went on seemingly unmoved by McCoy’s desperate rant, “I failed to mention that it wasn’t the Hope we know I saw, but an older version of her. A version that seems to have lived a completely different life.”
The doctor felt his jaw drop at that last revelation.
“So, you’re saying our Hope has a counterpart in another reality, to whom she is somehow, magically connected and whose memories she shares? Or that our Hope didn’t come from another time but another universe?”
Just saying the words ‘another universe’ out loud sent unpleasant shivers down McCoy’s spine and made his hair stand on end.
“I believe either is possible, certainly to be considered in our investigations, even though I cannot see magic being involved,” Spock replied, then, as if reading the doctor’s mind, added, “But whatever universe it might include, rest assured that it’s not the universe you, the captain, Lt. Uhura, and Mr. Scott had the dubious pleasure to spend some time in. Remember, I have met your counterparts, and neither our Hope, nor the Hope I have encountered during the mind-meld were in any way similar to those ‘people’.”
Despite himself, McCoy had to smile at the way Spock almost spat out the word ‘people’, clearly not impressed with their personalities and behaviour, even though he’d proclaimed that he’d found them ‘quite refreshing’ at the time. Apparently, the Vulcan wasn’t above teasing his friends now and then.
“I’m relieved to hear that,” the doctor sighed, looking expectantly at the Vulcan. “So, what are we going to do now?”
“I suggest we consult the ship’s history banks, in case Hope came from our own universe’s past after all.”
“But you already did that when she first told us, didn’t you?”
“Yes, I did. But with the additional knowledge we have now, we might still find something new there.”
“I know you, Spock! You’ve already got something in mind, haven’t you?”
“Indeed, I do, Doctor. As far as I remember, one of the women sharing Hope’s name went missing for a few days in 2016. It might be a good idea to start our investigations there.”
“2016… She would have been forty-five then!” McCoy murmured, his head spinning with the sheer craziness of the idea, trying and failing to picture Hope at nearly his age. “God, even Sherlock Holmes with his sublime deductive skills would throw in the towel at that. You know, the …”
“I know, Doctor, I am familiar with the works of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle,” Spock cut him short.
“Of course, you are,” the doctor mumbled, slightly miffed.
Spock raised an eyebrow and cast him what might almost have been a long-suffering glance.
“Why don’t you check in on Lt. Hope, which I expect you are anxious to do, while I select and access the required computer banks?” the Vulcan suggested softly. “I would advise you, however, not to tell her anything we’ve just discussed until we have any of it verified.”
Biting back the cutting retort that was on the tip of his tongue, McCoy gratefully nodded at Spock, then rushed out of his office to find Hope.
Chapter 63
McCoy raced along the corridors with a worried frown plastered to his face, people jumping aside to let him pass, thinking he was on his way to an emergency, when, in fact, he just couldn't get to his quarters fast enough to check on Hope. The whole way, he tried to think of words of comfort and reassurance, anything he could say to ease her pain and confusion at learning that, against all odds, and certainly against all medical and physical evidence, she might actually be a mother. And not just that, but a mother who seemed to have abandoned and forgotten all about her children.
Just the idea was so absurd and farfetched, it would have made him laugh out loud, had it not been so unsettling and downright scary. Hope being a mother, however medically impossible, he could imagine. She had all the warmth, the caring, the love. And, thinking back on the way she’d treated the kids they’d encountered since he’d met her, she’d certainly known what she was doing. He’d thought she was a natural at the time, daydreaming about a life where she was Joanna’s mother, but now he wondered if it hadn’t been much more than just aptitude.
However, the idea of Hope abandoning her kids, for whatever reason, was inconceivable. She wouldn’t – couldn't – do that in a million years. The doctor was one hundred percent sure of that. She’d rather die than let any harm come to the people she loved. Or to anyone, for that matter. She’d proven it time and again. It was one of the things he loved and adored most about her, even though it was, of course, also one of the things that caused him the most worry. No, the only plausible explanation was that this was all just some fabrication of a mind that had spent too much time – centuries – in stasis.
He was probably just getting stressed out over nothing. McCoy really hoped so. But until they managed to find tangible proof either way, he had to help Hope get to terms with all the implications and possibilities. She needed him to keep her sane, and calm, and confident that she hadn’t done anything wrong, that she was still the same, decent woman she’d been yesterday. Because she was. Whatever this was about, she was nothing but kind, loyal, and responsible. He didn’t have the slightest doubt about that. Even if any of this were actually true, there had to be an explanation that would prove her still to be the woman he loved. Had always loved, and would love forever.
By the time he entered his quarters, the doctor still hadn’t come up with anything helpful to say, but, in the end, it didn’t matter, because he found Hope fast asleep on the bed, still in her uniform, her boots carelessly discarded on the floor next to her. To McCoy’s relief, she looked peaceful and relaxed, and when she didn’t react to his tentatively stroking her face, he decided to let her sleep and go back to Spock.
Absentmindedly picking up her boots and putting them neatly to the side, as always fascinated by how small they looked in his hands, the doctor stayed for another couple of minutes, just gazing at his darling Hope. How many times had he watched her sleep? In sickbay, on missions, right here in this bed. Beautiful, enchanting Hope. His heart did the same little flip it always did, when he was reminded of how lucky he was to have her. To be able to take care of her. Marvelling at being the one she’d chosen to give her heart to.
Regarding her now, she looked, more than ever, like this sweet, young girl, barely a woman, triggering every protective instinct in him. Maybe there was a mystery surrounding her, maybe there wasn’t. But if there was, McCoy was pretty sure that Starfleet was somehow involved. They’d put incredible strain on Hope once, by burdening her with this unnecessary secrecy about her past. And he wouldn’t be surprised, if they’d done it again. If there was something bigger behind it, something that would explain all the secrecy in the first place.
Taking the covers from his side of the bed, the doctor tenderly pulled them up around her shoulders, silently promising that he’d find out the truth, no matter what it took. Then he bent down to softly kiss her forehead and quietly left his quarters, ordering the lights out before he did.
-x-x-x-x-x-
When McCoy returned to his office, Spock briefly glanced up from the computer screen, where he was speed-reading through a whole stack of colourful record tapes.
“How is Lt. Hope?” he asked, removing one tape and replacing it with another.
“She’s asleep,” the doctor replied, coming to stand next to the Vulcan and trying to figure out what Spock was reading, as the words scrolled by far too quickly for him to make out.
“Good,” the first officer said, “a mind-meld, especially when it is the first one, can be a thoroughly exhausting experience.”
McCoy decided not to give that information too much thought. He had more urgent matters to worry about.
“All right, Mr. Spock, what have you found so far?” he all but snapped, his impatience once again getting the better of him.
“Well, from the limited historical documentation we have access to on the Enterprise, which, unfortunately, doesn’t include any visual material, I can confirm that the Jennifer Hope who went missing for two days in 2016, indeed had two sons named Samuel and Philip.
“So, she came from our own universe, after all,” the doctor murmured, for some reason feeling immensely relieved by the fact, even though the realisation that the two boys weren’t just a figment of Hope’s imagination was rather disturbing.
“Not necessarily, Doctor,” the Vulcan corrected him. “I said ‘who went missing for two days’. After that, she apparently returned to her family and lived to be 97.8 years old.”
McCoy frowned in confusion.
“Do we know why she went missing? Where she spent those two days?”
“Unfortunately not,” Spock replied, and he almost sounded frustrated. “According to this news article, it happened during a trip to New York City with a friend, where she failed to return from the ladies’ room in a restaurant after dinner, then claimed to simply have woken up in bed in her hotel room, completely unaware that she had missed almost two days. Her friend had gone to the nearest police station and reported her missing immediately, but not a lot of effort was put into the search, as the common procedure at the time seems to have been to wait for 36 hours before taking action. The headline says ‘Abducted by Aliens?’, but Ms. Hope is quoted to ‘not believe in such things’ and apparently submitted herself to a hospital to check for any health issues or evidence of having been in an accident or subjected to any crime or drugs.”
Under different circumstances, the doctor might have been amused by Hope not believing in aliens. But as it were, he turned another shade of pale with every word Spock said, imagining all sorts of horrors that she might have run into before, once again, waking up alone and confused, not in another time, but still in a foreign country far from home. Why did she always have to go through such things? If it had even been her, of course, but after her time in stasis and her brush with amnesia, this sounded suspiciously like something that would happen to Hope. It was a long shot, basing their assumptions on a single article from an ancient newspaper, of course, but something deep down told him that it had been Hope. His Hope. And if his years on the Enterprise had taught him anything, it was that his gut feeling was usually right, and that anything was possible.
“But if she returned after less than two days, and lived out her life in the 21st century, how can she be here?” he wondered out loud, meeting Spock’s eyes and looking at him imploringly. “Please tell me that you’ve come up with a different, logical answer than I just have.”
The Vulcan hesitated slightly.
“Well, disregarding all possibilities involving other universes, there is only one explanation I can think of, but which you will not like,” he said softly. “I can only assume that she will return to her past at some point in time that is still ahead of us.”
“When she’s forty-five,” McCoy whispered, blindly grabbing for a chair and sitting down, the thought of losing Hope, even twenty years from now, nearly killing him.
Spock looked at him with a very un-Vulcan expression of compassion on his face, and for a brief moment, the doctor almost thought he was going to give him a hug, but in the end the first officer settled on putting a comforting hand on McCoy’s shoulder.
“Why can’t she remember anything about her life after 1991? And how is she not forty-five years old now, anyway? I mean, just look at her! Nothing fits, nothing adds up, we’re missing something big here, Spock, but what?”
“I must agree with you, Doctor,” the Vulcan responded, lifting his hand off the doctor’s shoulder and pushing back his chair. “But at the moment, I’m afraid I cannot give you any answers. I have already put in a request for more detailed records of the years in question to Earth’s historical archives, but they will take a few days to arrive.”
“God, what am I supposed to tell Hope when she wakes up?” McCoy buried his face in his hands, feeling terribly helpless. “She’s confused enough as it is, and she’s counting on us to come up with answers.”
“I suggest you tell her about her namesake going missing in 2016, and that we’re looking into it,” the first officer advised. “Maybe it will trigger some kind of memory. I also recommend we take this to Captain Kirk. Since Admiral Dakunia seems to be somehow involved, I assume that he knows far more about all this than we do.”
“Yeah, you’re right Spock. Jim needs to know,” the doctor nodded his head emphatically. “And we should definitely contact Dakunia and demand that he come clean about this whole sordid affair. I’ve always felt that Starfleet hasn’t given us all the facts and is holding back on the truth. Might they also be responsible for her not remembering?”
“Doctor,” the first officer looked thoughtful, “Could any of her special medication cause memory repression?”
McCoy looked appalled.
“Well, there’s something she takes for her eyes, and something to strengthen her bones, but they have no psychosomatic components whatsoever. There are also some special food supplements, but no. And then there’s...” he hesitated, not even wanting to pursue the thought.
“Yes Doctor?” Spock prompted, instantly picking up on McCoy’s reluctance to voice his suspicion.
“Some hormonal stuff she needs to adjust to this time that could have side effects such as depression or mood swings, but luckily, Hope doesn’t suffer from either. And even if it did affect her in some minor way, it could never completely block certain parts of her memory.”
“Are you sure? Isn’t that a medication explicitly designed to her individual needs by Starfleet Medical?” the Vulcan persisted.
“Well, it is, but that would be completely unethical. Totally unacceptable!” the doctor was outraged.
“But possible?”
“I guess so, yes,” he conceded, feeling his hackles rise at the mere possibility.
“We are talking about someone in Starfleet wanting to hide something,” Spock went on, looking unfazed by what he was implying. “They might not be too concerned about ethics. Could you find out?”
“You bet I could,” McCoy growled. “I’m going to the lab this instant. But I’d better not find anything! I’ve analysed the substance before, of course. I’d never give my patients anything that I haven’t verified. But now I wonder if I looked closely enough. I could never forgive myself, if I failed to check for some hidden component that I just wasn’t expecting. I’m certainly going to double-check!”
-x-x-x-x-x-
To his great relief, McCoy couldn't find anything untoward with Hope’s medication, but he still couldn't shake the feeling that there was something very wrong going on, and that Starfleet – or at least someone in Starfleet – knew exactly what that was.
While Spock went to see the captain to inform him about everything that had transpired during and after the mind-meld, the doctor returned to his quarters. Hope was awake now, jumping up from where she’d been curled up on the couch the moment he stepped through the door, and McCoy’s heart sank at the expectant look on her face.
“Leonard!” she exclaimed, eager eyes fixed on his. “I’ve been waiting here for ages! What have you found?”
“Come on, love,” he smiled, stalling for time as he wrapped one arm around her waist and gently steered her back over to the couch. “Let’s sit down. It’s not much, but we found something interesting.”
“Oh tell me already, don’t keep me in suspense!” Hope groaned, but obediently sank down into the couch next to him.
“All right,” McCoy exhaled deeply and, seeing her eyes tremble with fearful anticipation, couldn't help taking another moment to hug her tight and kiss her hair, which she bore with a rather impatient sigh. “Spock found out that one Jennifer Hope, whose age and other dates conform with yours, had a strange experience on a trip to New York City with her friend Nicole in the year 2016.”
“2016?” Hope repeated dazedly, her voice trembling in time with her eyes now. “What kind of experience? I’ve never been to New York, and I never had a friend called Nicole!”
“Maybe you did then,” the doctor softly suggested, gently tracing the frown lines on her forehead with his thumb. “Is there anyone you know by that name? Some acquaintance who might have become a closer friend over the years?”
He’d really hoped that the name would trigger some kind of memory, that there would be some spark of recognition.
“No one I can think of,” she shook her head. “Unless you count someone who I went to kindergarten with and never saw or heard from again after that. But anyway, what strange experience were you talking about?”
“Well, apparently this Jennifer Hope took a trip to the restroom in a restaurant during dinner with her friend, and didn’t show up again until almost two days later in her hotel room without any recollection of where she’d spent the time she’d been unaccounted for.”
“Go on!” Hope’s voice was barely more than a whisper, prompting McCoy to protectively gather her in his arms once more.
The need to hold and protect her had always been strong, but now, with the possibility of a time limit to their happiness, he felt like holding on to her and never let go again.
“Then she returned home to her family and lived to be almost a hundred years old,” the doctor concluded softly.
“So, what makes you think it might have been me? She was only gone for two days, and I’m not anywhere close to forty-five, am I?”
“No, you’re certainly not,” McCoy agreed, cupping her sweet, youthful face in his hand, “but this woman had two sons called Samuel and Philip.”
Hope’s eyes went wide, and she inhaled sharply, but when she opened her mouth, no words came out. So the doctor just silently held her, giving her time to digest all this new and disturbing information.
“But still,” she muttered when she’d found her voice again, “what you’re basically saying is that I’m forty-five and left my kids behind?”
“All I’m saying is that a woman with your name and date of birth went missing,” the doctor replied, his chest tightening at the shock and pain in Hope’s eyes. “But no matter how, or if at all, you’re connected to her, she never abandoned her children!”
McCoy felt Hope sag against him, sensing her dismay and confusion as clearly as if they were his own, whishing he could make all of this go away just by letting her hide in his arms forever.
“So, you don’t remember a friend called Nicole, but do you remember anything else apart from the boys?” the doctor probed gently.
“No, nothing really,” Hope sighed. “I feel I might have been a teacher, but I can’t actually remember it. Can you tell me more about this woman?”
“I’m sorry, love,” McCoy shook his head, “there’s not much to go on besides this one article in the Enterprise’s computer banks. We’ll have to wait for the data Spock requested from Earth’s historical archives. But even then, we really shouldn’t tell you too much, since, like with your amnesia, it’s vital that you remember things by yourself.”
They fell silent again, both of them lost in their own thoughts, the doctor tenderly stroking Hope’s hair and rubbing her back, as she snuggled ever closer into his embrace.
After a couple of minutes, McCoy decided to bring up something else.
“Spock also mentioned that Admiral Dakunia was there when you came out of stasis in this century. Or at least shortly after. That he helped you with your decision to join Starfleet.”
“Oh my God, you’re right!” Hope exclaimed, pulling back to look at the doctor in astonishment. “I’d completely forgotten about that. Somehow everyone looked the same when I woke up. He did seem familiar at the Academy, but I never realised where I’d seen him before. To be honest, everything about waking up and the immediate time after is rather hazy. It was a scary time, hard to accept that this was my new reality, and I try not to think back to that time too much.”
“I understand,” McCoy said softly, pulling her back into his arms, his heart breaking at the thought of her going through all of that on her own.
How he wished he could have been there for her from the start!
“Spock’s requested records of the late 20th and early 21st century will shed some light,” he murmured against her hair, “and, with Jim’s help, we’re hoping to finally get the whole truth from Dakunia, so that we can put an end to all this speculation and uncertainty. I’d much rather make wedding plans with you instead.”
“You still want to marry me? Even though you don’t know who I really am anymore?” Hope asked, and it hurt the doctor to hear the genuine surprise in her voice.
“What kind of question is this?” he shot back a little more forcefully than intended. “Of course I still want to marry you! Listen, Jenny, nothing can change the way I feel about you. Not even the most mysterious of mysteries. And I know exactly who you are. You’re the most amazing, wonderful, brilliant, and kind woman I’ve ever met. And even though I can’t for the life of me understand why you agreed to marry this old country doctor, there’s nothing I want more than to be your husband. To love you and take care of you for the rest of my life.”
Hope gazed at him for a long moment, her eyes filling up at his fervent speech, yet not seeming quite convinced.
“You’re aware that I might be an old woman now?” she chuckled, but her attempt at a joke came out as a rather serious question.
“Still younger than me, so that’s hardly old,” McCoy admonished with a good-natured smile. “But you know that I’ve always been drawn to your wisdom and maturity.”
It was true, he’d always felt her to be much wiser than her young years.
“And it certainly wouldn’t surprise me in the least, if you were a mother. You have all the wonderful qualities.”
“Perhaps we’re really not too far apart in age,” Hope mused, sounding more upbeat and confident again. “Maybe that’s why our apparent age-difference was never of consequence to us.”
“Maybe,” the doctor drawled, remembering the many misgivings he’d had about their age-difference for so long, but deciding that now was not the time to bring that up. “And although I’m far from complaining about your perfect, delightfully young body, you know that it’s not the reason I fell for you. At least I hope you do.”
All of a sudden, McCoy’s desire to comfort and reassure Hope turned into a very different, but no less urgent desire. And from the way she pressed against him, her hands starting to worm their way under his shirt, eager to touch skin, it seemed she felt exactly the same way.
“If there is such a thing as soulmates, love,” he breathed against her lips, more than happy to let go of all troubling and unsettling thoughts for the moment, “that’s us.”
Chapter 64
Jenny was lying in the dark, her thoughts going round in circles inside her head, Leonard’s solid presence against her back, his arms tightly wrapped around her, the only thing keeping her from going insane, his even breathing and occasional gentle snore soothing her like no meditation tape ever could.
Despite having had enough sleep this afternoon already, she’d dozed off for a moment after their exquisite lovemaking, but now she was as wide awake as anyone could be, her thoughts ricocheting between fearful speculations of what might lie ahead of her, and tender memories of only minutes ago.
Making love to Leonard, and having him make love to her, was always glorious. But tonight, he’d really tried to outdo himself. And successfully so, she smiled to herself, sighing contentedly and backing up even closer against his chest, revelling in the way his arms closed a little tighter around her every time she moved, his endearing protectiveness, even in his sleep, never failing to fill her heart with a kind of love she hadn’t known existed before she’d met the doctor.
It had been one of their mind-blowing nights, with Leonard being unfailingly considerate even in the throes of passion. His mild dirty talk – toned down for her sake, no doubt – and gentle swearing, always such a turn-on and so different from the way he was outside of bed, had been hotter and more erotic than ever. His touch remaining gentle and tender, even as he loved her as roughly and possessively as she craved him to. A predator who could make you feel safe and cherished while ravaging you in the most delicious way.
But she felt there had been more to it tonight. The urgency and intensity of his lovemaking, the way he’d looked at her, held her, almost as if he were afraid it could be the last time. Now there was a really frightening thought. Was he afraid of losing her? And why? She was aware that he probably hadn’t told her everything. Spock had made it very clear that she would have to remember the details on her own. But she’d felt that Leonard was really worried, that he wanted to protect her from something he knew. But what did he know that she didn’t?
Stop imagining things! Jenny admonished herself. He’s always worried, this was just his way of showing you how much he loves you, no matter what.
It sure had taken her mind off everything else, just as he’d probably intended in the first place, if she knew him at all. And just what he’d needed, too. Because it was always their troubles, their problems, their worries, never hers, she thought affectionately.
Before Leonard, Jenny had never thought it possible that anyone could take her fears, her pains, her worries to heart the way he did. But he’d always taken everything concerning her very personally. Even long before they’d been in a relationship. She vividly remembered the night she’d told him about that unpleasant experience with her friend’s father, smiling at the memory of how the doctor had got all worked up about it.
And the night after in the cave. How careful he’d been not to do anything that might even remotely be considered indecent. And yet, how tenderly he’d ended up holding her. How safe and protected she’d felt in his arms that night. How geborgen. And how unspeakably happy. It was still one of her most treasured memories, one of the most perfect moments of her life, sending the warmest, most loving feelings through her whole being every time she recalled it.
And right now, Jenny was feeling the same way. Sure, she was still scared of all the things she might find out about herself, her past, afraid of the hurt, the emotional fallout, and that Leonard might be disappointed or worse. But no matter what might come to light, she just didn’t see him turning away from her in disgust. He even still wanted to marry her, convinced that there was nothing he could find out about her that would change his mind. Or his feelings for her. There hadn’t been the slightest hesitation in his voice when he’d said that. Quite the contrary, he’d been actually stung by her questioning it.
She simply knew that he’d always stand by her, always protect and help her, absolutely certain that his love was strong enough to overcome anything. That she could always count on him no matter what. Because even without a mind-meld, Leonard seemed to see right into her soul. He might tell her how beautiful she was all the time, and she’d be lying if she said she didn’t love to hear that from him. But it was clear that he really saw past her looks, past her body, and that he loved what he saw underneath even more. By far the greater compliment and filling her with a strong sense of gratitude.
Gratitude to fate for bringing them together, for giving her a place in his heart and in his life. Because whatever lay ahead of her, she’d manage with him by her side. Leonard always knew what to do. He’d even come up with the idea of the mind-meld, fully prepared to face and overcome his own fears for her. As long as she was with him, she’d be safe. It had always been like that. He was her guardian angel.
-x-x-x-x-x-
McCoy was sifting through reports and supply requests in sickbay, his mind only half on the task, a constant stream of questions and theories seeming to circulate through his body in his bloodstream and ending up in a tight knot in his belly.
When he’d woken up that morning, wrapped around Hope’s delicate, familiar frame, he’d experienced a blissful moment of serenity, his body and mind still tingling with the heavenly pleasures of the evening before. But within seconds, it had all come back to him, and Hope’s eyes, trying so hard to conceal her inner turmoil, had of course only fuelled the churning in his stomach.
“Thank you for always being there for me,” she’d said in that small voice she unconsciously used when she was feeling afraid and insecure, twisting his heart.
“Where else would I be, love?” he’d asked, gently cupping her face in his hand and gazing at her intently, needing her to understand that he would never, ever, turn his back on her, his chest tightening at the almost guilty look on her face.
“I know, I’m sorry,” she’d chuckled, briefly closing her eyes as she’d leaned into his touch, a gesture so endearing and familiar, he was nearly washed away by the huge wave of tenderness it generated. “It’s just, I never meant for my silly flashbacks to turn into such a big deal. But, boy, am I ever glad to have you along for the ride!”
“Never apologise for needing me,” he’d replied, almost crushed by the sudden desire to simply wrap her up and keep her safe, then added with a smile, as he remembered what she’d told him before Iridis. “I might not be able to, or even want to, protect you from living your life, but I can sure as hell be by your side every step of the way. Maybe you still don’t get how serious I am about you, how important you are to me. And maybe you never will. But believe me when I say that being there for you is my reason for living. All I want is for you to be happy and safe.”
He might have been a bit over-emotional, a little over-dramatic there, but judging from Hope’s expression and the passionate kiss that followed, his words had been exactly what she’d needed to hear at the time. Something to hold on to, the rock to cling to, throughout the rapids of her past and whatever they might bring to the surface with every new memory that emerged.
Seeing how flustered and on edge she was, McCoy had suggested taking her off duty for the day, wanting her to take it easy, but she’d quickly convinced him that, if he could work his shift, then so could she. Besides, he couldn't disagree when she’d pointed out that the best she could hope for until Spock’s requested data arrived, was to be too busy to allow her mind to dwell on all kinds of constantly changing, increasingly absurd speculations.
In typical Hope manner, while they’d been getting dressed, she’d even made him laugh by coming up with silly jokes about her situation.
“Just imagine,” she’d told him, eyes wide in mock-amazement, “if I actually were forty-five, I’d be older than the captain!”
Then she’d squinched up her face in that adorable way she had whenever a particularly funny thought struck her, and the doctor’s heart had melted when he’d heard genuine giggles coming out of her mouth.
“And even better,” she’d snorted, falling into his arms and laughing so hard, all he’d been able to do was hold her and lovingly nuzzle her hair, until she’d recovered enough to speak again. “I’d actually be old enough to be Pavel’s mother!”
McCoy smiled at the memory. Trust Hope to find something hilarious in any situation, some reason to be cheerful, even when her whole life as she knew it was threatening to fall apart.
-x-x-x-x-x-
It was early afternoon, when Kirk and Spock showed up in his office, their faces, no, make that Jim’s face, serious and grim. Without preamble, the captain plonked himself down into the chair opposite the doctor’s, while the first officer remained hovering in the background.
“Would you have told me eventually, Bones?” Kirk asked in an accusing tone, the irritation plain on his face. “Or was I just lucky that you got Spock involved?”
McCoy opened his mouth to answer, but the captain held up a hand to silence him and, heaving a sigh, went on, “Anyway, I sent a message to Dakunia requesting complete clarification of the situation last night, and his reply and offer of a subspace conference at 1500 hours just came in.”
“That fast?” the doctor muttered, once again impressed by Jim’s ability to get quick results. “Your request must have really struck a nerve!”
“Well,” the captain grinned smugly, his earlier irritation giving way to sincere concern for his friend and Hope, “I might have implied that I’m not happy at all with more mysteries regarding Hope coming to light, and that I wouldn’t hesitate to go through all the official channels and make this a very public issue, if he failed to co-operate.”
“Good on you, Jim!” McCoy smiled, feeling immensely blessed to have the unfailing support of friends like Kirk and Spock. “I’ll go get Hope.”
“Don’t!” the captain stopped him. “Not just yet. Spock and I have decided to talk to Dakunia alone first. Just the three of us.”
“We have no idea what the admiral is going to tell us, Doctor,” the first officer spoke up, and the doctor nodded reluctantly. “Nor do we know if he is planning to tell us the whole truth this time. I believe it would be better not to expose Lt. Hope to his explanations before we have a chance to verify them.”
“You’re right, Spock,” McCoy agreed with a sigh, grateful for the Vulcan’s foresight and touched by his thoughtfulness, then chuckled dryly, “I’d better try to stay out of Hope’s way until then, because she’ll know something’s up the moment she sees me.”
“How fortunate then, that she will be ‘tied up’, as you’d say, in a meeting of her own until at least 1700 hours today,” the first officer said with his straightest Vulcan face. “I’ve just asked her and her colleagues to help me with a particularly urgent linguistic matter, which has only come up this afternoon.”
Kirk and McCoy turned to look at Spock as one, the doctor searching the Vulcan’s face for any trace of smugness while the captain beamed at him with unconcealed admiration.
“You’re a sly fox, Mr. Spock,” McCoy muttered under his breath, feeling a pang of deep affection for his friend. “Why do I keep underestimating you?”
“Indeed, why do you, Doctor?” Spock replied, raising a quizzical eyebrow and allowing the corners of his mouth to curl into the merest hint of a smile before turning around and making to leave sickbay with a polite nod at Kirk.
“Indeed, why do you, Bones?” the captain echoed, his eyes twinkling with mirth as he clapped an amused hand on his friend’s back, then followed on his first officer’s heels, calling over his shoulder, “See you at 1500 hours in the main briefing room!”
-x-x-x-x-x-
McCoy couldn't remember feeling this nauseous with nerves since his finals at medical school. But sitting here in the briefing room now, waiting to hear whatever Dakunia had to tell them, it was as if his stomach had been turned inside out. When Jim offered to pour him coffee, it was all he could do not to throw up in the captain’s face.
The sheer number of possibilities of what he was about to learn, all the atrocities Starfleet might have put Hope through, was doing his head in. He would have liked to get up and pace, but he needed to keep calm, and his wits about him for Jenny’s sake. He had to be at his most alert, prepared to hear all sorts of incredible stories and excuses, and be able to sniff out half-truths, maybe even downright lies.
Considering all that he’d found out with Spock’s help so far, he couldn't even begin to imagine what might be a plausible explanation. How any of this could turn out making sense at all. Of course, he’d come across the most incredible phenomena out here in space, things he’d never have thought possible, had he not seen them with his own eyes. And he was well aware that there were still way more things beyond his comprehension than there were cells in his body.
He knew that nothing was impossible, and that things were rarely as they seemed. But he also knew from the bottom of his heart that there was nothing fake or deceptive about Hope. That she was as real, sincere and straightforward as anyone could be. That however she’d really ended up in this century, and he’d always suspected that this unconvincing leukaemia story was not the true reason, would come as much as a surprise to her as it would to him.
It was up to him to make sure Dakunia didn’t fob them off with more fabricated stories. Hope was depending on him to find out the whole truth this time. To get Dakunia to admit everything, so she could finally make sense of all her flashbacks and déjà vus and stop worrying about her sanity. Whatever the real story behind all this, the only thing that really mattered was that she was here now. Healthy, happy, successful. And wonderful. He would do everything in his power to help her get to terms with whatever she’d have to deal with. Whatever it took to help her finally leave the past behind and move on.
She might never be the same again, of course. The missing pieces of her past would certainly change her in ways he couldn't yet predict. But they couldn't change her personality, the amazing person she was. Nothing could change her love of life, her brilliance, her kindness. And he dearly hoped that it wouldn’t change her love for him. Or take her away from him. Because no matter how well he understood that she might want to go back to her family one day, how much more her sons certainly needed her than he did, just the idea of losing her made it almost impossible for him to breathe.
Rubbing his face with shaking hands, vaguely aware of Kirk’s concerned glances, he pulled himself back to the present, forcing his brain to drop all unhelpful thoughts and stop expecting the worst. Especially, since he really had no idea what the actual truth behind all this might turn out to be. He needed to get his act together for the upcoming conversation with Dakunia. For Hope’s sake.
Anything for Hope, he whispered inaudibly, as the monitor in the middle of the briefing room table flickered to life.
Chapter 65
“Gentlemen,” Admiral Dakunia greeted them from the screen, looking tired and rather apprehensive himself, much to McCoy’s satisfaction, although the doctor in him wasn’t exactly proud of the feeling.
“Admiral,” the three officers returned the greeting, and Kirk added a polite, “Thank you for coming back to us so quickly!”
“You didn’t exactly leave me a choice there, did you?” the admiral frowned. “Not if I wanted to keep Hope safe, anyway.”
“Excuse me?” the captain asked, sounding as perplexed as McCoy felt at Dakunia’s statement.
“You heard me right, Jim,” the admiral sighed. “You have no idea what you’re getting into here. The sleeping tiger you’re about to wake. This is not about keeping secrets from you. Or her. This is about protecting Hope.”
“By keeping her in the dark about her own past? About who she really is?” McCoy blurted out, feeling even more unsettled now that Dakunia claimed to be concerned for Hope’s safety, indicating that she was in some kind of danger.
The admiral looked from the doctor to Kirk and Spock, and then back at McCoy.
“Exactly,” he said eventually. “Although I can see how that would be difficult to understand. But believe me, gentlemen, you don’t want to open that particular can of worms. It’s a Pandora’s box. You’ll have to trust me there. Like you, I only have Hope’s best interests at heart.”
“If you expect us to believe that,” the doctor scoffed, more than mistrustful of Dakunia’s motives, “you’ll have to do better than that. Just tell us! What’s so terrible about her past, what happened to her, what did she do, that you felt you needed to suppress her memories?”
“We never did that!” the admiral exclaimed, looking genuinely appalled, and McCoy briefly wondered, if this could really all be an act. “In fact, it’s completely beyond me how she could even have memories - suppressed or otherwise – from after 1991. She wasn’t there!”
“That’s not what we found,” Kirk took over again. “We have evidence that she lived on quite happily, well into old age, with only a two-day gap in 2016. Care to explain that?”
Dakunia heaved another sigh.
“You don’t understand,” he sounded exasperated now. “Yes, I kept that from you. But it’s not what you think, I did it for Hope. And we certainly never did anything to supress her memories. We simply assumed she’d only remember her life up to her physical age. That she might have memories after that didn’t even occur to us!”
“You are talking in riddles, Sir, as the human expression goes,” Spock spoke up, clearly sensing that Kirk’s and McCoy’s rather emotional approach wasn’t getting them anywhere. “May I ask you to be more precise?”
The admiral nodded reluctantly.
“All right,” he muttered under his breath, “never mind Pandora or that sleeping tiger. You’ve asked me for the truth about Hope, and I’ll give you as much as I can. This whole matter is strictly classified, after all.”
“Oh please, don’t hide behind the ‘classified’ excuse,” McCoy cut in, getting tired of watching Dakunia beating around the bush, stalling for time. “Surely, Hope would be given access to her own files, if she requested it? Why not just tell us the whole truth now and save us the trouble of opening an official investigation?”
“You might want to think twice before doing anything rash, Doctor,” the admiral replied, sounding calmer than he looked, his intense gaze somewhere between a warning and a plea. “Unless you wish Hope to live the life of a lab rat or worse. Because that’s what I’ve been trying to prevent all this time.”
McCoy’s jaw dropped.
The life of a lab rat? What’s the man even talking about?
But then Hope’s allegedly cured leukaemia, which inexplicably hadn’t left the slightest trace in her system, suddenly came to mind, as well as her mysterious immunity to that nasty virus, an explanation for which he still had to find in her blood, and the doctor felt his own blood run cold.
“I’ve come to know Hope as a very bright and lovely young woman,” Dakunia went on, “and I wouldn’t want to see her unhappy any more than you do, gentlemen. So, let’s make a deal. I tell you as much as I possibly can, and you drop all further investigation into this matter for the sake of your lieutenant.”
McCoy looked uncertainly at Kirk, his heart pounding hard against his ribs.
“You know I can’t agree to that,” the captain said determinedly. “Not until I can be sure that it really is in Hope’s best interest. That’s what we all truly care about, isn’t it?”
“Fair enough,” the admiral relented. “But before we start, I need to know more about those strange memories Hope has. Because it really shouldn’t be possible. At least not scientifically.”
“What she remembers foremost, are her children,” Spock answered Dakunia’s question, and McCoy wanted to kick him.
Why did the damn Vulcan always have to be so honest? Didn’t he see that instead of answering their questions, the admiral was trying to extract more information from them?
As if sensing the doctor’s thoughts, Spock cast McCoy a cautionary glance, prompting him to keep his mouth shut. Heaven knew, the first officer usually had good reasons for his actions, and the doctor dearly hoped that today wasn’t the exception.
Dakunia took his time to consider Spock’s words. And when he finally murmured, “I see, but we’d better keep this between us for now!” before finally launching into a more thorough explanation of Hope’s situation, McCoy had to admit that giving away this small piece of information had actually done the trick.
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“Okay, so, this whole affair actually started almost a century ago,” Dakunia began hesitantly, pausing to take a sip from his coffee, “when Starfleet’s Section 31 set out on a time travel mission back to the year 2016.” 1)
“Wait a minute!” McCoy cut him short. “You’ve lost me already. Section 31? Since when is there a Section 31?”
“There isn’t,” Kirk said flatly, and the doctor didn’t miss Jim tensing up and shooting Dakunia an almost challenging look.
“You’re right, of course, Jim,” Dakunia agreed, his face grave now, “there isn’t. Yet, I’m their contact in Starfleet Intelligence.”
McCoy felt a cold shiver run down his spine. Starfleet Intelligence? All of a sudden, this whole business sounded huge. And ominous. When had finding out about Hope’s past turned into a major – terrifying – affair?
“Can anyone please enlighten me?” he barked, trying to keep his voice from cracking as he glanced questioningly from Dakunia to his friends. “Is there, or isn’t there a Section 31, and who the hell are they, anyway?”
“Well,” Spock turned to the doctor, when the admiral didn’t offer an explanation, “there have been rumours about a secret branch of Starfleet Intelligence referred to as Section 31. But it is all hearsay, and to my knowledge, nothing has ever been confirmed.”
“Not just secret, Spock,” Kirk added, hard eyes on Dakunia, “but gone rogue. And certainly not a crowd you’d want to get involved with.”
McCoy’s alarm was growing at warp speed, and so was the knot in his stomach.
“Enough, dammit!” he hissed, glaring first at Jim, and then at Dakunia. “So, there is a Section 31. I get it. For God’s sake, just tell us who they are and what the hell Hope’s got to do with them!”
“I will, if you stop interrupting me,” the admiral said mildly, his eyes fixed on McCoy with something almost akin to compassion. “Let’s just say that Section 31 has been taking care of potential threats to the Federation since the middle of the last century.”
“Are you saying that Hope was a threat to the Federation?” the doctor was gaping at Dakunia in shocked disbelief.
So much for not interrupting. But this was truly outrageous!
“Not to begin with,” the admiral went on, unperturbed, “but unfortunately, she interfered with a mission of keeping some time-travelling fanatic from meddling with the politics of the time. Something about presidential elections that year. I can’t give you details, but that fanatic was the actual threat, and Section 31 was to prevent him from carrying out his plan. Regrettably, even today, most people still don’t get that changing past events, however understandable, or even commendable, the wish to do so might be, affects all of history. That it’s not about right or wrong, but about leaving everything exactly the way it was in order to preserve our timeline.”
And how well we know that! McCoy thought sadly, exchanging glances with Kirk, who was quite obviously thinking the same thing, the doctor’s own pain clearly reflected in Jim’s eyes, as they both remembered that awful day they’d had to watch Edith Keeler die in the name of restoring history. 2)
“And where exactly does Hope come in?” Kirk asked, his grief turning into impatience. “The mission was successful after all, I take it?”
“You don’t have to concern yourself with that, Jim,” Dakunia replied curtly. “Suffice it to say that Hope was in the wrong place at the wrong time, trying to be a hero.”
Hearing that, McCoy was gripped by a terrible sense of foreboding, picturing Hope in a similar situation to the one he’d been in with Edith. He’d never forget how he’d felt when Jim had deliberately held him back from saving the woman, whose expression of surprised disbelief, as the car hit her, would forever be etched in his mind. It may have been a ‘necessary’ sacrifice, but the guilt would stay with him for as long as he lived. Just like the question of who was to decide what was necessary, which timeline to preserve, in the first place.
“She didn’t have the faintest idea of what she’d stumbled into, of course,” Dakunia went on, oblivious to Kirk’s and McCoy’s painful memories. “All she saw was a young man of colour, as they still called them then, in trouble, being attacked near the back door of a diner in New York City. So she went to help him, nearly ruining the mission and getting herself killed in the process.”
McCoy froze in horror, registering Kirk’s equally shocked gasp right next to him.
“Her wounds were too severe to be successfully treated in the early 21st century,” the admiral continued, “therefore, not knowing who she was and how her death would affect history, the agents took her aboard their ship and back to 2191, the year they’d started from.”
A cold hand seemed to squeeze McCoy’s heart, as it hit him how close Hope had come to ending up as just another random murder victim, another dead body in the backstreets of then still barbaric New York City, and he felt hot anger rise inside him, when he realised that it hadn’t been concern for her life, but simply fear of her death somehow altering history, that had led to her rescue.
And all just because she’d wanted to help someone. So very Hope. Tears stung at the back of his eyes, even as a strong sense of pride and affection surged through him, when it struck him that trying to help others was probably still going to be the most likely cause of death for Hope.
“What happened then?” Spock asked, seeing that his friends had apparently lost the power of speech.
“Well, Hope was kept sedated until her health was fully restored, and the plan was to simply return her to her own time. Unfortunately, however, due to some technical glitch that’s difficult for us to reconstruct, they not only took her back exactly 200 years instead of the intended 175, but after realising they’d arrived in the wrong time, somehow ended up beaming an additional twenty-year-old version of Hope back up to their ship. To this day, we haven’t been able to determine with certainty, whether this was the consequence of some strange transporter malfunction, some time-anomaly, a rift in the space-time continuum at the exact time of the beam-up, or the fact that Hope had been brought to a time where a younger version of her already existed. The latter seemed the most likely explanation at the time, since the ship’s sensors hadn’t picked up any anomalies, and they couldn't find anything wrong with the transporter, either. So, on discovering that the young woman was, in fact, a duplicate, with her alter ego still on the surface, completely unaware and happily going about her life on Earth in 1991, they took both versions of Hope back to 2191 to deal with, and possibly even undo the chaos they’d created.”
McCoy’s head was spinning, when Dakunia finally paused to give the three officers time to let his words sink in, and from the frowns of concentration on his friends’ faces, the doctor could tell that even Spock had a hard time keeping track of events and processing this whole, preposterous tale.
If he’d been floored by Hope’s original story of spending three hundred years in stasis to be cured of leukaemia, this revised version certainly threw him for a loop. Yet, the doctor felt in his heart, that, this time, Dakunia had told the truth.
Jenny, a duplicate? Some kind of clone?
McCoy didn’t know what to make of this, couldn't even begin to grasp this new concept and all its possible ramifications, or what it could possibly mean for Hope to find out. Let alone how he was supposed to tell her. Just the thought of how this would affect her, frighten her, turn her whole world upside down and put everything she believed in into question, broke his heart. Hell, he had no idea how to even deal with this himself!
Pandora’s box, indeed!
Hope was the most kind-hearted and giving person he knew. She’d never harmed anyone in her life, only ever brought joy and happiness into other people’s lives, always trying to help in her sweet, caring way. So, why was nothing ever easy for her? Why did she have to go through one traumatic experience after the other? Why was her life a never-ending stream of unpleasant surprises?
Despite being aware that she didn’t even know about any of this yet, all McCoy wanted to do at that moment was to go find her. To be with her, hold her, comfort her, protect her. Make sure that this was the last time she’d ever have to go through something like this.
But Dakunia wasn’t done yet. By the looks of him, he still had a lot more to say. How much worse could it get? The doctor felt like running off and taking Hope to the nearest inhabitable planet to hide there from all further news. Just the two of them, together forever, living a simple and quiet life. But things weren’t that simple, were they?
“In the end,” the admiral broke into McCoy’s thoughts, “they managed to take Hope, the original version, back to 2016, leaving a two-day-safety margin, so as not to repeat a possible duplication effect, and making sure that she could go on living her life the way she was meant to.”
“And what about the ‘duplicate’?” McCoy asked, his voice barely more than a whisper, desperate to know, yet not sure he was ready to hear the details of what they’d done to his darling Hope.
1) I borrowed Section 31 from DS9. 2) Reference to the TOS episode “The City on the Edge of Forever”.
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Continue to: Chapters 66-70 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
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.