Ice cold fury slid through your veins. “What?” You spat.
Dr. McCoy turned to you, arms crossed over his chest. “The only way I can possibly think to save you is to remove the whole system.”
“That’s preposterous.” Your fingers curled in the sheets.
He wouldn’t meet your eyes.
Pushing the blanket down, you slid to the side of the bed. “You can’t remove something that makes up my entire person. It’s the same as saying you want to remove all the blood vessels from your body. It’s not possible.”
Dr. McCoy huffed a laugh.
“You find my life to be amusing?” You seethed.
Finally his eyes met yours, and you were surprised that there wasn’t anger in them. “You don’t understand.”
“Then explain it to me.”
“I have been.” He stepped towards you now, giving you his full attention, which was quite intimidating. “I have done nothing but explain it to you. You are not like them, okay? You are flesh and blood where they are computers and wires, nothing else.”
“I don’t have blood-”
“Before I brought you up here, I was treating men down there for injuries, but they weren’t soaked in blood. No. They were soaked in oil, in fluid from your men, not blood.”
“I-”
“Those bastards must have kidnapped you when you were a kid or something and integrated their damn computers into your system. And now your body is rejecting it.”
“Kidnap?!” Your toes landed on the floor and you moved to stand in front of the doctor. “What are you saying, Dr. McCoy?”
His hazel eyes bored into yours and he gritted his teeth before responding. “I’m saying you’re human.”
A zap spiked up your spine at his words, and it made you sit down hard on the bed. Your display was going wild, but there wasn’t the familiar red light or headache. “I’m fine.” You brushed off Dr. McCoy’s concerned hands.
“See, it’s malfunctioning. We have to remove it... somehow.” Looking up, Dr. McCoy’s expression showed deep thought, and his lip was pulled taught beneath his teeth.
“No.” Was the only syllable you could manage at that moment.
He looked exhausted when his gaze met yours, and he dragged a hand down his face. “It’s the only way...”
Your tongue slid over your teeth as your anger grew. “You cannot remove it. I won’t allow it.”
“Y/N-” He argued.
“No. It’s a part of me.” You stood again, ignoring your sensors telling you that you were off balance. “Even if all you are saying is true, how do I know that you don’t just want to open me up to figure out how to destroy all my people? I won’t allow it.”
His eyes looked sad but you ignored it and continued. “This system, it’s a part of me. It’s not just something I use to look things up, it’s a part of my personality, a part of my livelihood. It allows me to see the world the way I like to. So to remove it would be the same as removing your kindness or intelligence, doctor. It’s a part of you.”
You stepped up to him and looked him hard in the eyes. “You can’t remove it.”
He looked down at you, his eyes displaying a surprising amount of softness. It was disconcerting, you’d rather him be raging and yelling, to give you something to work against. “If we don’t, you’ll die.” He said flatly, as if he’d reached the end of an argument, like this is the last time he’d say it.
You shook your head and blinked hard, trying to find your remaining resolve to fight him. “I can’t just let you take this part of me. Send me back, Leonard.” His eyes snapped to yours at the sound of his first name. “Please.”
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When Dr. McCoy stepped back into the room, he looked a little more sullen than before, a little more...
You resisted the temptation to get your display to scan for emotion, because that’s what Mr. Scott said brought on your headaches.
“Is everything alright?” You asked as the doctor wordlessly resumed his spot in front of the screen next to the bed.
“Other than my fellow crew-members and friends being trapped down there, fighting your people, everything’s just peachy.”
You didn’t need your display to tell you that he was being snarky, and you were a bit taken aback. The doctor had been nothing but kind to you up until now, what changed?
“Did I do something wrong, doctor?”
His eyes flicked closed and he let out a breath, his shoulders falling a little before he responded. “No, it’s not you.” He seemed to want to continue, but stopped.
“When can I be returned to my people?” You asked, and you could feel the effects of the relaxant slowly starting to wear off.
Dr. McCoy’s eyes suddenly flicked to yours. Hurt. Your display provided without you ordering it to.
“You want to go back there?” His voice was rough.
“Alllllright, lady and gent, shall we take another look at what we’ve got goin’ on here?” Scotty’s loud voice cut through the tension that Dr. McCoy’s question left hanging.
His eyes lingered on yours for a second more.
“Didn’t you fix it when I almost blacked out last time?” You questioned, turning now towards the hesitant-looking engineer.
“Yes... an’ no.” He grabbed his PADD and sidled up next to you. “Ye see I could only shut down tha’ part temporarily, the signals are becoming too compressed to stay stable for long periods of time.”
“Compressed?”
“It’s building up too much pressure, tha’ no matter how many times we release it, it’s goin’ t’a continue to build back up.”
You contemplated the meaning of this for a minute. “So you’re saying if I continue to use my ISD that I will eventually overload the system?”
“ISD?” He asked.
“Internal Software Display.”
“Ah... and yes, eventually, the signals will put too much pressure on the nerves an’ tissue tha’ they are attached to and ye will eventually... short circuit, for lack of a better word.”
“Your brain will shut off and you will die.” Dr. McCoy’s voice cut in and you looked up at him, the annoyance in his eyes making anger fizzle in your fingers.
“Do you know nothing of my species? We don’t have brains, or nerves, or tissue, or hearts.” You looked at Dr. McCoy pointedly on the last word.
“The thing is, you do. You do. You have a heart and a brain and nerves.” He stalked to his screen and turned it sharply so you could see it. “Look. Lungs and a stomach and everything.”
The glowing screen showed what looked like a green outline of a body. An x-ray, you recalled. But you had only heard of x-rays from classes you’d taken, and since your people never needed them, you had no idea what the inside of a body looked like, let a lone a human one.
“This makes no sense to me. You could be showing me anything, anyone. I don’t believe you.” You growled.
“It’s all right here! Heart, lungs, brain.” He pointed to the different parts as he spoke. “And it’s a live x-ray from the bed you’re on, go on, move your arm, you’ll see it move on the screen.”
You didn’t move, only stared at him, your jaw set. “Why are you doing this?”
“I’m trying to save you, damnit!” His chest heaved with angry breath and his eyes were alight with an emotion you couldn’t place.
“You’re not saving me by telling me lies, doctor. Now, take me back to my people.” You lifted your chin and tried to keep as much dignity as you could from your spot on the bed.
Dr. McCoy wasn’t the one who responded this time. It was Scotty. “Lass, if we send you back down there, you’ll die. The software will overwhelm your system.”
“Then how do we fix it?” You fell back in the bed a bit.
Dr. McCoy spoke up again from behind Scotty, and his three words shook you to your core. “We remove it.”
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Tags: @emmkolenn @multipleuniversesinwriting @to-pick-ourselves-up-7 @drmccoy-ruinedmylife @hoarder-of-stars @lurkch @unfortunatelynotmadeinrussia @outside-the-government @dragonpressgraphics @starshiphufflebadger @scarlet-witch-baby @jimboy-mccoy @lonolulu @anoceanoffandoms @aubinkey @storiesfromstarfleet @renegade-redshirt @auduna-druitt @therainbowshideout @lauuerodz(if I missed anybody let me know - also some tags aren’t working? so sorry!)
A/N: I call this part ‘Bones is working as fast as he can will you leave him alone?’
Part 1 Part 2
“Bones what the hell are you doing up there?” Jim’s voice blared through the com as Leonard stepped out into the hall, out of Y/N’s room.
“Doing my job.” Leonard snapped back.
“Well could you do it a little faster, we need you down here!” There was a muffled explosion from the other end of the com.
“I’m sorry, Jim, but I have a patient to attend to, a very... special... patient.”
“This is no time to play favourites, Bones, now get your ass-” Jim’s voice cut out mid sentence.
“Jim? JIM!?” Bones yelled into the com before snapping it shut and pressing it to his forehead in frustration.
“Leonard?” Scotty’s voice was hesitant as the door slid open.
“Yes?”
“I don’ know what yer plan is, but we might need to pick up the pace a little.” He looked hesitant as he wrung his hands.
“Why?” Leonard crossed his arms over his chest.
“Because this software that seems to be embedded in her... Leonard, it seems to be frying her from the inside out.”
Leonard gulped back a pang of worry, but maintained his composure. “What do you mean, frying her?”
Scotty’s hands waved as he explained quickly. “The system is nothing like I’ve ever seen before, ever. No’ even in the one we brought aboard to take a look at. She seems t’a be the only one with this particular software.”
“What the are you getting at, Mr. Scott?”
“Sir.” Scotty looked at Leonard, hard. “She isn’t like the others. The others are fully computerized, ‘cyborgs’ if you may. She? She’s only part computer. The other part is human.”
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“Aye, I dunno wha’ in the world this software is, but wha’ever it is, it’s definitely wha’s causing her t’a blackout.”
This voice was not familiar as you once again were drawn out of the blackness of sleep.
“Hey, she’s waking up, just, back off a little, she spooks easy.” That was the voice of Dr. McCoy, you recognized.
This time it was a lot easier to get your eyes to open, and the first thing you saw was his face.
“Welcome back, darlin’.”
“What does that mean; ‘darlin’’?” You sat up a little, feeling fine despite just having passed out from pain.
“It’s a human colloquialism, and it’s something I say when I don’t know someone’s name.”
“Interesting. My name is Y/N, if you would rather.”
“Y/N.” He tested the word on his tongue and his eyes seemed to soften around the edges.
“I’m sorry t’interupt, bu’ I’d really like t’a run s’more diagnostics.” The source of the first voice came into your view now. A man in a red shirt stepped forward. He looked a little older than Dr. McCoy, with soft features and whispy red-brown hair.
Dr. McCoy stepped back and gestured to the man. “Y/N, this is Mr. Scott.”
“Or Scotty, if ya like.” The red-shirted man smiled.
“Yes, or Scotty.” Dr. McCoy smirked. “He’s our head engineer.”
You tipped your head at him in acknowledgment, but looked back to Dr. McCoy in question, “You are both heads of your department, why aren’t you down in the fight? Surely you’re much more needed there”
“Not necessarily, you’re still blacking out, and that’s my main concern right now.” Dr. McCoy looked down at you pointedly.
“Your main concern? With a bloody battle going on down below?” Your eyes slid back and forth between the men questioningly.
Neither of them answered, so you spoke again. “Why am I so important?”
They exchanged nervous glances before Scotty’s eyes widened, his lips pursed as he turned back to the screen. Dr. McCoy glared at him for a moment before turning back to you.
“Because…” He sighed, as if he didn’t want to complete the sentence. “Because you might be our key to winning this war.”
“War?” You told your display to search Doctor Leonard Mccoy, quickly scanning the data before continuing, “This vessel and its crew is supposed to be on a research expedition. Why are you involved in a war?”
“I think you’d better ask your own people that question, because we were the ones who received a distress signal from your planet.” He explained, "and when we got down there you were the ones who attacked us.“
You scanned his features for a sign that would indicate he was lying when the red light appeared again in your vision.
Squirming on the bed, you started to panic, anticipating the pain, and you barely squeaked out "doctor” before he was at your side, scanning you with a whizzing handheld machine.
“Scotty, what’s going on?” He barked over his shoulder as you felt the headache begin to rise.
“I’ve almost isolated it but it seems t'a be triggered by her usin’ the internal software.” Scotty responded as he tapped furiously on the device in his lap.
“Internal software?" Dr. Mccoy questioned.
"Aye. The computer seems to be integrated into her brain, into her…”
“Central nervous system.” Both men said at the same time.
Dr. Mccoy looked like he just had an epiphany and quickly stepped away from you, reaching into a drawer.
You, on the otherhand, started to feel the skull crushing pain that had so far preceded blackout. “Doctor?" You called out again.
"Hold on, darlin’.” He mumbled as he continued to dig through the drawer. “Hold on.”
You whimpered and squeezed your eyes shut as the men both worked.
“Aye! I’ve go’ it! Just one switch an-”
“No, Scotty, don’t do anything until I give her this… DAMNIT WHERE ARE THE…” You heard his frantic search through the drawers suddenly halt, “agh, there they are.”
“Wha-?”
“If you turn that off right now it’ll throw her system way off kilter and god-knows what I’ll have to do to fix her.”
“Alrighty-then.”
You felt the doctor’s form near the side of the bed and you unsqueezed your eyes to see him leaning over you.
“I’m going to give you this neuro-relaxant to slow down your system. Hopefully it’ll make you relax enough that we can stop you from blacking out, okay?” He hovered over you, his hand already pressed to your neck, but you could tell he was waiting for your consent.
You managed a nod just as another ripple of pain shocked through you and your back arched off the bed in response.
You didn’t even feel the pinch of the needle, but you did feel your body begin to relax. But the headache was still there, still achingly painful.
“Now, Scotty!” The doctor’s voice echoed in your ears.
“Aye.”
The ringing in your ears suddenly reached a peak before it cut off entirely with a loud click. The pain receded just as fast, and you were left lying on the bed, gasping for breath and barely able to move.
You felt a few drops of water slide down your cheeks and you tilted your head questioningly.
“Y'allright?” The doctor sat the head of the bed up a little and you looked up at him through a blurry gaze.
“What is-?” You lifted a tentative hand to touch your cheeks.
“Tears, darlin’, they’re tears.” A soft tissue joined your hands and you realized that Dr. McCoy was dabbing at your cheeks.
“I did not know I could produce tears.”
The doctor hummed in response and looked down at you curiously.
“You know my name.” You commented and mumbled a soft ‘thanks’ as he removed the tissue.
“What?”
“You said you only say 'darlin” when you don’t know someone’s name, but you know my name.“
The corners of his mouth tipped upwards. Almost a smile. It made him look handsome. "It’s used as a sort of 'term of endearment’, as they say.”
“Hm.” You hummed, tipping your head back against the bed. “Interesting.”
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A/N: The first two parts are just the first parts of the fic that I’ve already written.
“You collapsed,” A man with dark hair loomed over you. “In the middle of a fight. Are you sick?”
You blinked dumbly at him until you recognized the insignia on his blue shirt and began to panic. “Where am I?”
“You’re in my medbay,” His hands pressed on your shoulders when you tried to get up, “-just try and take it easy.” His gruff voice contradicted with his coaxing words. “It’s going to be alright.”
Is it? You thought as you stared up into his hazel eyes. How could it be, when you’ve landed in the hands of the enemy?
Your eyes blink open slowly, an unfamiliar grogginess pulls at the back of your skull and your mouth opens with a soundless groan. Were you drugged?
You’re in a bed. And there’s a blanket over you. Safety? You ask yourself, but your visual display beeps red as it comes into focus. There’s someone in the room.
Swiveling your head, you get a glimpse of a dark form beside a bright computer before blinding pain shudders down your spine and cracks your skull open.
Then there are hands on your shoulders and words being mumbled at you.
Those hands. That voice. You remember from when you woke up the first time. The insignia on his shirt. Enemy.
You thrash against his hands, but the pain only gets worse, so you instead let out a scream. His hands grip you harder and you think he says something, but you can’t hear anything. Nothing except the ringing in your ears that seems to be getting louder.
“Damnit.” is the only word you are able to make out before there’s a soft pinch in the skin of your neck and the world quickly fades to black again.
“-ey. Open your eyes for me, okay? Slowly. And for the love of god please don’t freak out again, it nearly drove you to a heart attack last time.”
The now-familiar voice coaxed you out of your drug-induced slumber, and you slowly pried your eyes open. The man was hovering over your bed, his expression one that you couldn’t place.
Concern. Your visual display offered, and you agreed. He looked concerned. And hesitant. As if you were going to start swinging at him.
“I had a heart attack?” Your throat was raw and your words were raspy.
The man’s features seemed to relax, and his mouth settled into a line. “Nearly. Nearly a heart attack. Your heart rate was through the roof and your blood pressure…”
“That’s odd.” Your brow furrowed.
The man paused. “How so?”
“I was unaware that I had a heart.”
The man’s mouth opened and closed soundlessly, his brow furrowing and unfurrowing as he seemed to be mentally double checking something.
“Who are you?” You asked, shaking him out of his confusion.
His eyes met yours. “I’m Dr. McCoy. Leonard McCoy. I’m the Chief Medical Officer.”
You nodded and observed him carefully. “Dr. McCoy, how did I get here?”
His shoulders relaxed a bit and he stepped away from the screen in front of him. “Well…” He scratched the back of his neck.
A sign of nervousness. Your visual display identified, but with a flick of your eyes, the words disappeared.
Dr. McCoy continued, “I was down there, in the whole skirmish between your… people… and mine, when I saw you collapse.”
“Did you not think it was because I might’ve been attacked by one of your people?”
He shook his head. “There was no one around you when you hit the ground.”
“Do you always watch people so carefully?” You tilted your head.
His chuckle was low and soft, “I’m a doctor, it’s part of my job.”
A red light started beeping on your display, the same as before when your ears started ringing. You shifted in the bed, but didn’t notify the doctor of your discomfort. “Do my people know I’m here?”
His eyes searched your face, but he answered, “I don’t know. I beamed you straight up here and… resuscitated you.”
“I… died?” The ringing started distantly in your ears and you took a few shaky breaths.
“You feeling alright, darlin’?”
Darlin’? Your display started scanning to translate, but came up empty. Your head started to throb, and you pressed on, “Answer my question, doctor.”
He stepped back to the screen and his eyes scanned it quickly. “Is your head starting to hurt?”
“I’m fine!” You insisted, but a surge of pain made you gasp, and your hand instinctively flew up to press on your temple.
“Lie back and breathe deeply, okay?” The head of the bed lowered as your eyes closed in pain.
“I… can’t…” You groaned, and your body started to tremble, your fists clenching and unclenching.
“Relax… Hey! You need to breathe, damnit!” His hand fell to your shoulder and your arm instinctively flew up to knock it away.
“AGH!” A scream tore at your throat as the world went black once more.
Tags: @emmkolenn @multipleuniversesinwriting @to-pick-ourselves-up-7 @drmccoy-ruinedmylife @hoarder-of-stars @lurkch @unfortunatelynotmadeinrussia @outside-the-government @dragonpressgraphics @starshiphufflebadger @scarlet-witch-baby @jimboy-mccoy @lonolulu @anoceanoffandoms @aubinkey (if I missed anybody let me know - also some tags aren’t working? so sorry!)
With elements from this + this from @thefandomimagine:
Imagine Chekov getting all nervous and lovey dovey around you because he loves you
Imagine being admitted to the hospital and needing a surgery. But Bones is your doctor and he isn’t going to let you be scared. So he holds your hand as you are put under so you don’t feel alone. Not even for a second.
Note: Fourth in the “Nocturne” series, where the reader has been awakened by Bones after a 200-year cryosleep. “Nocturne” || “Shipmate” || “Inflection” || Setting: Enterprise, Chekov’s quarters, medical bay || thank you again @heilith + @tsukuyomi011 for the translation, reference and medical help, respectively
“…and this is the lakelet. Doesn’t it look peaceful?”
Pavel proudly pointed to the ripped photo in the tattered book, filled with old images of the sprawling Aptekarsky Ogorod in Russia.You stood behind him, peering over his shoulder with your arms wrapped lovingly around his waist.
You were only supposed to be visiting him in his quarters for just a few quick kisses before he reported for duty, but when he excitedly produced the book of Russia’s oldest botanical garden, you found it difficult to leave.
“It’s so beautiful there. It looks like heaven,” you whispered, marveling at the still-crisp colors in the photos. “Where did you get this book from?”
“Kotjenka, you just asked me that,” he said, using his term of endearment for you - kitten - and laughing.
You honestly didn’t remember asking him the question at all, but that could have had something to do with how tired you were feeling lately.
You attributed your yawning, cat naps and unplanned sleep-ins to the sheer exhaustion of getting accustomed to your new life. But the longer it went on, , you knew there was more to it than that.
That’s why you asked Dr. McCoy, the person with whom you had the strongest bond on the ship, to give you a physical last night.
Admittedly, the timing sucked. Medical bay was busy with the first wave of crew member physicals, a project you had helped set up as the doctor’s low-level assistant.
Since you couldn’t spend all your time with your sweet new boyfriend, and since you weren’t technically a member of the crew, Bones took you on to do all the menial updating that no one else wanted to do, which was fine by you.
A tech performed the physical in the harried doctor’s stead, but everyone quickly got distracted by a patient diagnosed with a bacterial infection. You doubted if there had been any time to look at your results.
“Kotjenka?” Pavel asked, his concerned voice snapping you from your thoughts.
“Humor me and tell me again,” you asked, trying to play off your forgetfulness.
“OK. The book was passed down from my great, great…”
You playfully bit his right shoulder, stopping him.
“You’re making me feel old.”
“That’s exactly what you said last time! And it doesn’t matter to me how old you are. You will always be my kitten.”
“You are so, so cute!”
It drove him crazy when you started nuzzling his neck. Pavel placed the book on his desk chair and turned around. Cupping your face, he met your lips, moaning softly through the kisses.
And then…
“Mr. Chekov.”
You whispered to him not to answer Dr. McCoy’s summons over the communicator.
“Mmmm, hmm-mmm, mmm….”
“CHEKOV!”
Pavel pulled away from your smooches and shook his head at you apologetically. Flustered, he answered, less than professionally, “Uh, yes?”
“Don’t ‘uh yes’ me! Is my daugh…patient…assistant…hell, IS THE KID THERE?!”
“Which kid?” Pavel snickered, both of you laughing as if you were four years old.
“What the hell do you mean?!”
“Well, you call us both ‘kid,’ ” The two of you shared another giggle, “even though we’re not.”
“Dammit, Chekov, obviously I don’t mean YOU! I need her in medical bay right now!”
Pavel’s lips skimmed the soft skin of your cheek, and made his way to your lips. ”I will…mmm…send her…right away…mmmhmm…”
“My God, what is that juicy smacking? Are you two kissing?”
“Uh…”
“Stop swapping spit and get her down here!”
Pavel slowly pulled away from the embrace, and looked at you with puppy eyes.
“Time for both of us to go,” he said.
“We didn’t get to the end of the book,” you pouted.
“Later, I promise.” He took both your hands in his. “Do you want me to walk you to medical bay?”
“Gee, that would be swell!” you teased in a chipper voice, sporting a super-cheesy smile. “Do you want to carry my books, too, Daddy-O? Be my date to the sock hop?”
Pavel laughed nervously and furrowed his brow, not understanding the American 1950s slang, references, or that you were using them to point out how adorably old-fashioned he was.
“If you had books, I would carry them, um…Mommy-O,” he said. “And if you’ll show me, I’ll hop my socks, if that makes you happy. I mean, swell.”
Oh my God, he’s so wonderful, you thought. This was the innocence you loved so much about him.
But your tone turned serious when you imagined Bones’ reaction to seeing him. “Thanks for the offer, Pasha, but you’d better not show your face around there right now.”
His eyes grew big and he nodded, imagining what your surrogate father might do or say to him after hearing all the smooching going on. Releasing your left hand but still clasping your right, he walked side by side with you toward the door.
He obeyed the doctor’s order not to get sloppy with his affection, but he couldn’t resist kissing you on the cheek before parting.
When you walked into medical bay, Bones was in the middle of muttering to himself about you while moving from one set of terminals to another. He didn’t hear the doors hiss open.
You caught the words “need to put a tracker on her,” “driving me crazy,” and “that shit was supposed to be minor.”
You had no idea what that last bit meant.
His head snapped up when he finally realized you were standing there. Rushing over to you with a worried frown, he grabbed you by your shirt sleeve.
“Finally!”
“Hey! I’m not scheduled to work on the updates until tomorrow!!” you said.
“This isn’t about those updates.”
You grunted and growled as he tugged you over to the hard protruding beds and released your sleeve.
“Lay down and prepare to be here all night and most of the day tomorrow.” The medical scanner was in his hand, and he was itching to begin.
“What? Why?” You propped yourself up and lay your back against the strip of cool cushioning and waited, but got no answer.
His bucked his eyes with alarm at the displaying data as soon as he started the scan..
“Dammit,” he snarled.
“What is it?
“How have you been feeling?”
“Um…”
“Confused? Forgetful? Exhausted?”
“Just a little.”
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?!”
You weren’t sure how to answer. He shook his head as he went along, down the length of your body, momentarily hovering over your heart.
He cursed again, using a harsher word, and still didn’t answer you when you inquired.
Bones plunked the device at the end of the bed. He disappeared to the back of the unit and you heard him rustling about. When he returned, he was carrying a small case, which you recognized right away.
“Why do I need a neural monitor?” you asked.
Bones plucked out the small device and placed it on your forehead above your right eye, adjusting it until it affixed to your skin. You repeatedly asked what was going on, but he just kept moving.
“Doc.” You put your hand on his, and he froze where he stood. “Please talk to me.”
It literally pained him not to move, and hurt him even more to look at you. He blew out a long breath.
“The results of your physical-” he started but you interrupted.
“You found something, and it’s bad, isn’t it?”
“No.”
“Don’t lie! Let me guess: I’m finally aging, right? Fast, or else you wouldn’t be panicking like this.”
“Listen, I’ve caught everything early. I’ll fix you. You’re going to be fine. But here’s what you should know.”
Bones began tossing out all kinds of heart, brain and digestive conditions you had, things that you’d only skimmed over while going through the unit’s vast computer catalog of medical terminology, including every known disease in the galaxy and every known treatment.
But as you processed the harsh reality of your situation, nothing he was saying made sense. Every syllable of every long word turned into white noise.
It was only when he said, “in short, kid” that his speech became clear and understandable to you again.
“Your young, resilient self woke up first and tried to take over where it left off 200 years ago,” he said. “But you are, in fact, a very old, sick woman. That person is just starting to wake up, and by the looks of things, she’s pissed about it.”
Bones hung his head for a moment, then placed his hand on the top of your head and smoothed back your hair. It was the most tender move he’d initiated since first waking you up from your cryosleep.
“I’m going to fix this, but I’ll need to do some pretty serious procedures,” he said.
“You mean surgery?” you exclaimed. “NO!”
“It’s not like when you were growing up in the mid-1990s and 2000s, kid. It’s 1,000 times safer. First I need to run a thorough physiological diagnostic tonight, just like I did after we found you.” He forced a strained smile. “Don’t worry. I’m going to override all of this.”
“‘Override’?”
“Maybe that’s not the right word.” He looked away when he said that.
And at that moment, a harsh realization dawned on you: your revived life was just one big override.
Bones had pulled you out of your cryosleep, treated and nourished you back to health instead of disconnecting you from your wires and letting you die.
“Doc, we both knew I was on borrowed time.”
“I told you, I’m going to fix this. Now, you do remember that I need to sedate you for the first part of the test, all right?”
You weakly nodded as he stroked your hair. He saw the fear in your eyes.
He saw that you didn’t need a medical doctor, a mentor, or a savior.
Adult or not, you needed a loving parent to reassure a frightened child.
“I’m not going to leave you or let anything happen to you,” he said, his voice breaking, “daughter.”
After the procedure, Bones slept in the next uncomfortable bed, tossing and turning so badly that he fell off several times.
You knew this because you heard thuds, followed by “DAMMIT!” through your dreams, but didn’t wake.
Overnight techs came in for their shifts. You felt them checking on you, following instructions Bones left for them.
But he would bolt up and take the lead, and personally went over your early diagnostics as best he could with so little sleep.
In your deep dream state, you were up and about, meandering through medical bay, except half of it looked normal and the other half, far in the distance, looked like the photos that Pavel showed you of Aptekarsky Ogorod.
Arm-in-arm with an old version of yourself - gray hair in a neat French twist, face gorgeous despite its many wrinkles, and a slight hunch in your back - you gazed longingly at the flowers beyond.
“I know how to get you there,” you said, nodding toward the garden.
“Then do it,” answered the older, other you.
You awoke to a technician standing over you, readjusting the neural monitor. You also had a heart monitor, added sometime during the night.
When she saw your eyes flutter open, she smiled and, before you even asked, told you that Bones was meeting with Capt. Kirk, but would be back within the hour. She also said that Pavel had been by earlier, looking scared for you as he read captions from an old photo book.
“He left a note and promised to visit again later,” she said, pointing to your side. You lifted the piece of paper: Я тебя люблю. I love you.
You smiled, feeling your face glow. But your loud growling stomach made you want to duck under the bed.
“Food?” you asked timidly.
“As soon as your diagnostic is over, you can eat. Dr. McCoy is looking at absolutely every cell,” she said, and she was not kidding.
Her ponytail swung as she looked behind her and pointed. “I’ve got to get the updated pharmaceutical inventory back online. I’ll be right back there.”
“I was supposed to do that today. Sorry.”
“No problem. You know I’ll be alerted if something urgent comes up with you, but feel free to just call for me, even if you just want to talk.”
“Thanks.”
Your wheels started turning before she was out of sight.
If she was dealing with the pharmaceutical system, chances were that she wouldn’t be paying very close attention to any of the others.
And that meant you could do what your dream was telling you to do.
She was sitting on the other side of the unit with her back to you, bringing up a crapload of information on a screen. Perfect. With the coast clear, you sat up quietly, reached over to the computer panel, input McCoy’s authorization codes, and paused your diagnostic.
Normally, that would trigger a notification to the tech, but you immediately entered an alert cancellation code.
Then, you gulped, and tried to control your shaking hand.
You had paid such close attention to medical bay’s complex systems while assisting Bones that you’d figured out a temporary, though extremely precarious way, to retrieve and make changes to your medical data, including treatment and resuscitation orders.
You were sure that Bones wanted every effort made to revive you if you flatlined, and you truly loved him for it.
But those weren’t your wishes.
No matter how safe the surgeries were, you didn’t want to undergo them. You didn’t want constant monitoring, weekly diagnostics, sedation, or for Bones to drive himself crazy trying to figure out how to override Death.
After being trapped inside a quiet nightmare for 200 years, you had discovered true happiness aboard this ship. You were living in freakin’ space, for God’s sake. You’d learned the foundation of the Vulcan language from Mr.Spock himself, befriended badass Capt. Kirk, fallen in love with Pavel, found a surrogate father in Bones.
You really couldn’t have asked for a fuller life.
If the sickly, old woman in you wanted to go back to sleep - forever this time - you would let her, on her own terms.
Your back-door approach to accessing your file involved disabling three separate but compatible programs, gradually bringing each one back online at precisely different intervals in under one minute, thereby delaying their interface.
During that period where they couldn’t talk to each other, you could manipulate your file in secret.
But you had to work fast and confidently, and pray that your memory lapses and disorientation didn’t kick in before everything re-converged.
You had figured out this slick play a while ago, but never seriously considered trying it. At the time, you were just happy that your nerd game was still strong.
Now it was time to see if your speed and nerves could actually execute it.
The first task would be to break the data feed between the monitors on you and the computer.
To keep the programs from getting wind of this once they reintegrated, you would either need to block the neural and heart monitor signals or just freakin’ break ‘em.
Degree of difficulty: Very tricky. No matter what you did, it was just a matter of when, not if, the monitor problems would be detected and fixed. In the end, you decided to go with blocking. It would buy you some time, and it wouldn’t be nearly as suspect as destroying the devices.
Next, you’d need to replace most of the results of the current diagnostic with the previous, healthier ones. Unfortunately, you couldn’t touch the most recent findings because they were already recorded, and deleting them would take more time than you had.
But if your underhanded copying-and-pasting worked, everything else about your assessment would look OK enough for the good doctor to leave you alone - well, as alone as his persistent ass was capable of.
He would treat only the known problems, and judging by the treatment options blinking on the large monitor next to each condition, they didn’t require invasive surgery.
Degree of difficulty: Ridiculously thorny, but possible. It was imperative that you remember to remove the embedded date of the first set of results before copying them to the new test, or all kinds of signals would go off.
The most monumental tasks, by far, involved (1) establishing the “do not resuscitate” order, which required extremely delicate code finagling in order to circumvent the voice-recognition authorization, and (2) completely erasing your tracks from every system you touched.
Degree of difficulty: As close to impossible as you could get. 98.9 percent likelihood of failure.
