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the one with the shirts

Summary:

"You end up with doppelgangers often?" Leonard asks.

"We've had a fair few," Jim says. He whirls around, practically shining with excitement. "Don't tell me this is your first time, Doctor?"

He scoffs. "There's no need to word it like that."

[A transporter malfunction sends Leonard into another universe. Some things are not so different. Some things are not shirts]

Notes:

Written for trektober 2022. Chosen prompt was "transporter malfunction".

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Leonard doesn't notice anything wrong with the ship until he tries to step off of the transporter pad and walks straight into the security forcefield. The wall of blue light nearly blinds him as it bursts into existence and shoves him back across the transporter. He yelps and stumbles head-over-tits, landing hard on his ass. His medical bag hits him in the chest. The shock dazes him more than the pain. He tries to break his fall at the last second but only succeeds in cracking his elbow against the floor.

"Agh - Jesus!"

The silver-white lights of the Enterprise blink down at him, equally surprised. Leonard lays under them for a few seconds, waiting for his heart to settle in his chest. It will only be a moment before the transporter techs rush over with their excuses and apologies. He'll wave the whole thing off as an accident or an elaborate joke, and go and lick his wounds in the privacy of his office where he won't be able to hear the lucky sod watching the security feed laughing at him from four decks away.

Except nobody comes to help him up. He pushes himself up gracelessly and checks the state of his nose - sore but undamaged, although he winces as he moves his arm. His palm and wrist are red with friction burns, and Leonard feels the pain pulsing all the way up to his elbow. Unbelievable. Luckily, it's nothing a quick blast of the dermal won't fix up, because there's no way he's going down to Sickbay to explain to his nurses how he's gone and hurt himself so stupidly.

It's then that he notices the quiet in the transporter room. Neither of the officers at the station have started their apologies yet, although they're not laughing at him, either, so Leonard accepts that as a small mercy. He picks himself up off the floor, medical bag, hurt pride, and all.

"Hey -" he starts, stopping short at the unfamiliar Engineering officers at the transporter station. That, in itself, is not too unusual, because there's over four hundred people on the Enterprise and that's far too many names and faces to recall at a moment's notice. But one of the officers has the rank of commander on his sleeve, and while Leonard's not one for remembering rank and protocol and all that malarkey either, there's definitely only one commander on the crew - and that's Spock.

This blond-haired red-shirt is not Spock.

The door swooshes open before Leonard can demand an explanation. Two Security officers stomp inside looking just the same as anyone in the Security team, except when they reach for their phasers and flick them to stun, Leonard is their target.

"What in the blazes -?"

He backs up and their phasers follow him. Sweet Mary and Joseph, he must be hallucinating. He's sure the forcefield will protect him from anything they fire, but testing that assumption hadn't been part of his evening plans. After a long day consulting on Deep Space Two, Leonard just wants to check-in with Sickbay, with Jim, and lay down his head to rest. A hearty dinner wouldn't go amiss, either, but he'd take a shower over near-anything right now.

He's probably not about to get one.

"I think we can lose the phasers," says the blond red-shirt. His smile seems genuine, all the way up to the crow's feet at his eyes, and it sets Leonard on edge. Politicians are his least favourite people to deal with, and this guy's got 'mediator' written all over him. "Standby just in case, but he looks pretty harmless."

Leonard scowls. His pride is taking a beating today. He is pretty harmless, true, but it stings to hear this stranger peg him that way at a glance. Blondie could at least put in the effort to confiscate his med bag. "I ain't even armed, if that's what you're worried about. What's going on here?"

"Great question," says blondie. "And I'll be the judge of whether or not you're armed, thanks."

Leonard's eyebrows rise. He's used to hearing clapbacks like that from Jim, not some stranger playing dress-up as a commander. If blondie is trying to integrate himself into the Enterprise crew undetected, then he's doing a piss-poor job. The only anomaly is the unquestioning obedience from the Security team. Hendorff definitely taught them better.

"You think I've got a phaser in my boot?"

"Believe me, I've found them in worse places," blondie says with a roll of his eyes. The door whooshes open again, and he turns to address the blur of gold striding in. "Captain."

Leonard turns too, expecting Jim or, hell, maybe Sulu if there's been some kind of disaster, but the officer who walks in with the captain's bands at her sleeves is Nyota.

Leonard just about passes out on the spot. Fear surges up his throat. He lurches or stumbles forward, nearly colliding with the forcefield again. The Security officers twitch towards their weapons.

"Nyota? What the hell? What's happened? Where's Jim? An' Spock?"

She comes to a stop by the transporter station. Her face reveals nothing as she takes him in which is all sorts of weird, and then she just ignores him. She leans over to blondie to exchange a quiet word. There's no need for them to speak quietly. Leonard's heart is pounding so loudly that he wouldn't be able to hear them anyway.

Something terrible has happened. His mind cycles through all of the possible scenarios for the four most senior officers on the ship to be indisposed at once (Jim and Spock, sure, they're idiots, but Scotty and Sulu?) and he doesn't like the sound of any of them. He's been gone for a day. One day. As far as he knows, the Enterprise hasn't even left orbit from around the starbase. What sort of emergency could it have gotten itself into? Why did nobody inform Deep Space Two? The tech who beamed him over hadn't bothered mentioning he was due to be left stranded on the transporter pad like some sort of criminal.

"Identify yourself," Nyota calls over, and it takes Leonard a second to understand she's talking to him. She's never regarded him so coolly before. It's like she doesn't recognise him - like she isn't sure what she's looking at.

An awful thought compels Leonard to rub a hand over his face. Has the transporter… scrambled him? Put his face on wrong? Given him someone else's face? That would be just his luck. He knows these things are bad news.

"It's Leonard," he tries, listening for any difference in his voice. His face feels okay. And he's not hurting anywhere - except for the parts of him that hit the floor. He definitely has all of his fingers and toes. "Leonard McCoy?"

Nyota looks at blondie and the other tech. "Scan him again and show me."

He startles as the transporter pad blinks on. He forces himself not to panic as the scanner passes over him with a flash of light. He's already stuck on his least favourite part of the ship - he doesn't need the transporter doing anything else to him. Nyota must know this will be setting him on edge and yet she's putting him through it anyway. What the hell is going on?

"There," says blondie. He's finally lost his smile, and now he points at something on the screen with frustration. "He's Leonard as far as the scanner is concerned, but I don't believe it. He's in blue, for starters."

Nyota's gaze flicks over Leonard again. She purses her lips. She looks absolutely bizarre in Command gold but nobody in the room is laughing, least of all Leonard, who feels like he's stepped into a terrible dream.

"Lieutenant Commander McCoy, is it?" she asks, her eyes catching on his shirt. "Do you know where you are?"

Leonard swallows. He can't remember the last time anyone used his 'Fleet rank, let alone his friends. Another awful thought comes to him, and he can't decide if this one's better or worse. "It's Doctor McCoy, actually. And I was gonna say the Enterprise, but forgive me if I ain't too sure about that anymore. You the captain?"

"I am. My name is Nyota Uhura and this is the USS Enterprise."

"But not my Enterprise," Leonard surmises, feeling sick. All those old wives' tales about transporter malfunctions and parallel universes must have been true. God forbid. God forbid. He fights back a swell of vomit and plasters on a smile. "Unless this is Jim's idea of a prank, of course, in which case I ain't finding it very funny."

"Neither are we," says Nyota, although the declaration is ruined somewhat by blondie smothering a laugh. She rolls her eyes up at the ceiling in a familiar bid for patience, and despite everything, she looks like the Nyota that Leonard knows in that moment, struggling to bite back a smile.

It eases something in him, that realisation. Maybe he's not too far from home.

"Commander," Nyota chides, and blondie ducks his head.

"Sorry, sorry. It's just - the idea of Jim getting the drop on us like this. Never in a million years."

Another knot loosens in Leonard’s chest. There’s a version of Jim Kirk on this ship. Safe and happy. It’s hard to imagine him as anything but the captain, but as long as he’s here, then at least one thing is right in this world.

"See what I mean?" blondie says then, apparently seeing something of note in Leonard’s face. “He’s not our Leonard McCoy and he’s definitely harmless. He’s got that look Jim always gets.”

What look, Leonard wonders, but no one elaborates.

Nyota shakes her head. She approaches the security forcefield separating Leonard from the rest of the room. This close, he can count the gemstones in her earrings and see the softness in her smile. By sheer chance it looks like he's landed in a nice universe. Thank the lord. If they deemed him as anything but harmless, he honestly wouldn't be able to do much to protect himself.

"It seems Commander Kirk is vouching for you. If I have you escorted down to Sickbay, will you cause any trouble? Or do I need to throw you in shackles?"

Commander Kirk?

"I - no, no restraints necessary," Leonard says, feeling his knees wobble at the realisation that this red-shirt is the fabled Samuel Kirk. Jim’s only ever mentioned him in passing - an older brother, the one he never expected to leave - but Leonard knows enough of Jim’s upbringing to understand why. And now here Sam is, happy and grown. He’s nothing like the ‘Sammy’ that Leonard has conjured in his mind from the scraps Jim has dropped over the years, and yet - and yet he is so very like Jim.

This is too much to process at once. Leonard is starting to feel dizzy.

"I’ll be on my best behaviour,” he says, eager to get away from this atom-scrambling contraption. He'd accept a stint in the brig if it got him out of this blasted room, so the prospect of going to Sickbay is too good to pass up. Sickbay is his space. He can take a moment to collect himself there. "It wouldn't be very doctorly of me to go around making trouble."

For some reason, this makes Sam laugh.

"Good," Nyota says, and she waves over the Security guards to let Leonard go. "If you don't mind, I'll ask my doctors to run some tests on you. Unfortunately, I can't guarantee my staff will be as non-invasive as the tests. They like to gossip. Please indulge them."

 

##

 

They head down to Sickbay. The layout of the ship is exactly as Leonard remembers it, and the short trip down to deck seven is enough to calm the worst of his nerves. A few people do a double-take at the sight of him, but that’s okay, because Leonard does a few double-takes of his own. He’s sure he sees Sulu for a second, wearing a blue shirt. And he’s less sure but mostly convinced they pass a blur of colourful Vulcan robes.

Sickbay, at least, never changes. Sam greets a handful of people as they walk through the non-emergency waiting area but doesn't stop to talk. The pharmacy is as busy as ever, and there's a physio class taking place in the medical gym. Leonard relaxes despite the many questions and unknowns still surrounding this situation. This Sickbay isn't quite his, but it's the closest he's felt to home all day. The clinic on Deep Space Two was enormous and impersonal; he missed his shiny desk and the plants the paramedics insist on piling onto it; the never-tidy hypo cabinet; tea with Lauretta and coffee with Geoff; and the gossip at the nurse's station at all times of the day. He doesn't have any of those things here either, true, but at least he knows his way around.

Lauretta and Geoff might be here, in fact. And surely Christine is nowhere else but ruling the emergency ward.

"Ah, there he is," Sam says, leading them past the counsellor's office. “God, how am I going to break this to him?”

There's a private waiting area here, too, with a dark couch and a little coffee table just like on Leonard's Enterprise. Jim is sitting on the couch with a PADD, overshadowed by the gigantic monstera in the corner. He's wearing a white lab coat with the top two buttons undone, and it has 'KIRK' embroidered on the front.

While Leonard's overwhelmed brain is struggling to marry the concepts of golden boy Captain James T. Kirk and willingly sitting in Sickbay, Sam gets the conversation going. Not that it goes very far once Jim looks up over his glasses and spots Leonard standing there like a lost tribble.

"Hey, loving the shirt," says the Jim of this world, looking at Leonard with so much affection that it makes his stomach turn. "It’s a good look on you. I told you you should just pinch mine.”

Leonard looks down at his standard issue Science blues and doesn't understand the implications for a long, long moment.

"About that," Sam says, glancing down the corridor. There's a few people about. "You got a second?"

Jim shows them into the CMO office. It's a small space. There are books piled high on the bookcases and model ships lining the far wall. There aren't any windows, but a real-time projection of the sky over Earth's northern hemisphere drifts across the ceiling. Leonard recognises some of the old constellations. He takes a seat at the wrong side of his own desk and tries to unstick his jaw from the floor.

"Computer, engage door lock," Jim says, as he hops up onto the desk like a school boy. He very blatantly uses the height advantage to get a good look at Leonard, and smiles at what he sees. "So, who's this then?"

“Oh, thank god,” Sam breathes. "It's the way he holds himself, right?"

"Yeah," Jim says, but he's looking right at Leonard's face. "Alternate universe?"

"Transporter switcheroo.”

"Damn, he hates those things."

"So do I," Leonard interjects, not sure why their easy back-and-forth is making him uncomfortable, but feeling uncomfortable nonetheless. "And I hate people talking 'bout me like I'm not here."

Sam laughs. "I guess some things are constant. Jim, this is Doctor Leonard McCoy."

"Doctor? Seriously? An MD?"

"Yeah," Leonard drawls, as though they both can't believe it. "You too, I'm taking it?"

"Yep," Jim says, popping the 'p'. "What am I in your world?"

"A pain in the ass."

Jim laughs too. Despite the fact that there's a few years between him and Sam, they look damn near identical. Leonard can't believe he missed it before. They even have the same laugh. "Well, whoever he is, I hope he looks after my Bones."

That is unspeakably sincere for Jim. It takes Leonard a second to find the words to reply. He's had a long day on Deep Space Two and that's why there's a tear in his eye, no other reason. "He will. He's a good man."

Jim slumps in relief. He's so unguarded, it's unnerving. Leonard normally only sees him like this in the privacy of their quarters, and even then, Jim can never quite stop being a captain. But in this world, he's not a captain at all.

"Good. And I guess you’ll just have to stick with us in the meantime," Jim says. “Don’t worry, we’ll look after you.”

“I’m sure,” Leonard drawls, but he means it despite the sarcasm. He assumes this Jim picks up on that without any issue, since he smiles.

“Actually, you’ll be looking after him in the meantime,” Sam amends, clapping Jim on the shoulder. “I’ve got a transporter malfunction to investigate. The sooner we start, the sooner we'll get all of this sorted."

"You always do," Jim says, absolutely radiant with pride. "Computer, disengage door lock."

Sam scoffs as he makes to leave. "Eager to get rid of me?"

"Computer, lock door again in five seconds."

With a parting laugh, Sam disappears out through the door.

Jim's good humour doesn't waver. “Let me see your arm, I can see you trying not to move it. Can I go through your med bag? Or are we trying not to share too much knowledge in case the world implodes?"

Leonard hadn't considered that. He presents his arm anyway, figuring the Science team can deal with that. Plus, he wants to see Doctor Jim Kirk at work.

"Looks pretty superficial," Jim says, running his fingers gently up Leonard's forearm. "Did you have these injuries before you came aboard?"

He considers saying yes. "No."

Jim pops open a jar of burn salve and tests it on his own wrist before applying it to Leonard's. "So, you got flirty with our security field, huh? She's a tough one to please, let me tell you. I've had a fair few run-ins with her."

So that's why Sam laughed earlier.

Leonard rolls his eyes. "Are you like this with all your patients?"

"I feel like there's a wrong answer here," Jim says with an overly innocent look. "Just the ones I -"

A communicator chirps. Leonard checks his out of reflex but of course the damn thing is busted. If he twiddled with the settings for a bit, maybe he could tune into the network on this ship, maybe pick up signals meant for this Leonard McCoy, but he's never been technology savvy. He puts it back into his pocket as Jim flips open his own comm.

"Kirk. Sure, gimme a sec." He shoots Leonard an apologetic look and scoots away for some privacy.

Leonard inspects the anti-bac patch on his arm while he waits. He can't complain about Jim's bedside manner. He hasn't even tried to stick Leonard with any hypos yet.

That might be about to change.

Jim snaps his comm shut as he returns. "I've been told to prod you a bit, verify your identity." He shrugs as though to say, what can you do? "Well, actually, Geoffrey was asked to prod you since he's our geneticist and, you know, not me, but the door, you know? I think he might be standing out there now."

Leonard bites back a smile. "I was assured these tests would be non-invasive."

"Don't worry, they will be. It's less about who you are and more about where you've come from. Dimension-travel tends to leave a biological trail, you know? Trust me.”

Leonard doesn't know, in fact, but he does trust Jim. He's never known of anyone dimension hopping except for Old Spock and the Narada, and does that even count? He's not brushed up on his space-time theories. If there's any literature out there about visitors from other universes, then he's not read it. His Jim and Spock are probably scouring through it now.

"Ain’t you worried about getting your McCoy back? I mean, me an’ him have swapped places or something, right? You’re pretty calm about all this," he says - which he's grateful for, of course, but he can't imagine his Jim being calm in this situation. He can hardly believe he's not freaking out himself. Maybe falling onto his ass killed off the brain cells he needed to panic. Or maybe it's the easy-going smiles of this Jim.

Leonard probably shouldn't be enjoying this mess so much - he is in another universe for shitsake - but Jim is Jim in every dimension, and it's hard not to find comfort in that. He trusts the crew of his own Enterprise will be working around the clock to bring him home, so he has to trust this Enterprise, too. How different can they be?

"Worried? Nah. You said he’ll be safe in your universe and I believe you. He can look after himself. Plus, we're on an exploration vessel, right? Shooting all of the unexplained phenomena we meet would kind of defeat the purpose of diplomacy. You would not believe how many cubes turn out to be sapient beings. We're just out here to make friends and do science, and that means extending a little trust."

That sounds peaceful. Leonard considers asking about the Klingons in this universe, or the Romulans, or if Vulcan is still floating in the sky, but decides he's better off not knowing.

"You end up with doppelgangers often?" he asks instead.

"We've had a fair few," Jim says. He starts to lead them back into the bustle of Sickbay proper but then whirls around, practically shining with excitement. "Don't tell me this is your first time, Doctor?"

Leonard scoffs. "There's no need to word it like that."

"It is! Holy smokes, the things you guys haven't seen yet. No details but - one time, I met a version of you that was an android and it was so cool! And another time, everyone was trees! We were finding random leaves in Sickbay for months. Geoffrey can tell you all about that one, I was kind of unconscious the whole time…"

 

##

 

Fortunately for the entertainment of the medical staff, it's a quiet shift in Sickbay that evening, which allows them plenty of time to hover, gawk, and gossip as Leonard sits through a barrage of tests. He recognises many of the faces - but not all. Geoffrey is near-unchanged. Nobody can tell Leonard who or where Lauretta Su-Jung is when he asks, so he figures she never joined the crew after the Marcus-Khan fiasco. If that even went down in this universe. It would have been bad form for the CMO to leave Sickbay in the middle of a crisis, so the Jim of this world probably hadn't been anywhere near Engineering at the time. Someone else may have died instead. Or maybe Marcus never betrayed them at all.

Otherwise, Sickbay is pretty much as Leonard remembers it. The only jarring differences are the ones that walk through the door.

Like Sulu. He rarely leaves the Bridge when he's on-shift due to the nature of flying the damn ship, so it takes Leonard a second to notice when he strides in. It doesn't help that Sulu is wearing blue.

"Hey Doc, hey Commander - nope, you're not a commander, are you?" Sulu says, mentally kicking himself with a click of his tongue. "What's the best thing to call you? Lieutenant… Commander?”

Leonard winces. “My name is fine.”

“Wow, sure,” Sulu says with surprise. “I better not get used to that. Got anything for me?"

He directs the question at Jim, who sends him a bunch of files from Leonard's patient PADD. The concept of Sulu working in the Science division isn't too much of a stretch given his fondness for botany, and seeing him work closely with Jim is familiar. The setting is just completely wrong.

"You the Chief Science Officer here?"

Sulu looks up from Leonard's test results. "Oh. Yeah. Sorry, I figured -" He sticks out his hand. "Hikaru Sulu."

"I know that much. You the First Officer too?"

"Are you kidding? That'd be way too much work. I’m only Human.” Sulu’s eyes widen. “Are you saying I’m the First Officer in your world?”

“God no, you’re a helmsman.”

He lets out a sigh of relief. That’s fair, Leonard thinks. Only the craziest of people gun for command positions in Starfleet. The Sulu he knows is one of them, but maybe this one prefers the simpler life. Or, as simple as it can get as the CSO. Spock’s always getting pulled in a thousand directions back home.

“A helmsman!” Sulu cries. “I could see it. What’s the Doc, then?”

“A pain in the ass, apparently,” Jim says, before Leonard’s hesitation becomes a poignant pause.

Sulu gives Jim a friendly nudge. “Now that I believe. Still, I better run these results up to the Captain. It was nice to meet you, Commander - Leonard, I mean. Dammit. I’m never going to remember that. At least you won’t be here long enough for me to get used to it.”

“I won’t?”

“Nah. You think you’re the first inter-dimensional being we’ve had to send home? Trust me, we’ve got it under control. Luckily for you, I’ve had a look at your data from the transporter and it looks like your quantum world is predictable enough for us to drop you back into it. Once we get the numbers straight, of course.”

“Gotta love the maths,” Jim says, and he flashes Leonard a grin.

 

##

 

Jim clocks out about an hour later, and with nothing better to do and no one having yet thrown him into the brig, Leonard follows him out of Sickbay. It’s at this moment that Leonard’s stomach reminds him that he hasn’t had dinner, so they head straight to the canteen. He signs for a visitor’s meal card under the befuddled gaze of the Head Chef, and then is relieved to find that the synthesiser is just like the ones back home. Its decaf coffee is absolutely vile and he drinks it gladly, much to Jim’s bemusement.

“He’s more of a tea drinker,” Jim says. “Coffee gives him nerves.”

“I wouldn't have survived med school without coffee,” Leonard grumbles with a shiver at the memory, but he concedes the point. Coffee makes him all jittery too. "What's he like then, your McCoy?”

For the first time all evening, Jim doesn’t immediately burst into an anecdote. He searches Leonard’s face for something - and so far, he’s the only person who hasn’t looked straight at the rank bands on Leonard’s sleeves. “He’s my best friend. I love him a lot.”

Leonard feels his ears go pink. This isn’t his Jim, but it’s nice to hear anyway. “Yeah? Back atcha, kid. Wouldn’t know what I’d do without ya.”

Jim blushes, too, and pokes at his food. “You said he was a good man - the other me.”

“He is. He’ll run himself ragged trying to get your McCoy back here. I’ll have to hypospray him into next century as soon as I get my hands on him. No one will tell him to stop - even Spock’s a total pushover.”

“Spock?”

Leonard raises his eyebrows over his coffee. Jim sounds awfully confused for someone who’s supposed to have a multi-universe destiny with Spock. “Yeah, he on this ship? Pointy-eared half-Vulcan, bit of a bowl-cut, can’t miss him really.”

“You mean the Ambassador?” Jim says. “Sure, he’s on this ship. We picked him up from Deep Space Two this morning. He’s out here representing Vulcan principles or something - I think he’s just a big space nerd. I mean, you’d have to be a nerd to teach at VSA.”

“He’s not Starfleet?”

“Wow, no. I kind of wish he was. I think he’d drive Sam up the wall.”

Huh, Leonard thinks, trying to imagine Spock as anything but their rule-sprouting, rule-breaking First Officer. Sure, Spock is whip-smart and probably could have smashed through the VSA’s entry tests with his eyes closed, but the Enterprise is his home. It’s where he belongs. And that’s only become more apparent since Vulcan’s unimaginable loss.

Which hasn’t happened in this universe. Leonard had suspected it hadn’t, but damn.

“You and Sam always serve together?” he asks, probing for information. The Samuel Kirk he's heard of is a teenager from Jim's memories, who left Iowa as soon as he could and was never heard from again. He's not in Starfleet, otherwise Jim would have known.

“No, just a lucky coincidence. He thinks it's lucky, anyway. I've done my best not to follow along behind him. Mum always thought I was going to be the engineer."

"But he is?"

"Yeah, Chief Engineering Officer. He's aiming for Captain.” Jim’s face softens with pride. There’s none of the resentment in his expression that Leonard has come to know from his Jim, none of that sadness and longing, and no grief. To hear him speak about his family so openly - so lovingly - is jarring. Is George Kirk alive in this universe? Is the Kelvin still out there, safe and sound, and exploring new worlds?

Leonard knows there are Jim Kirks out there that never faced the Narada. Old Spock is a living remnant of one; someone who knew a different Jim, a different Winona, a George Kirk. But Leonard has never met that Jim - he never felt real. He exists only in Old Spock’s memories as an impossible ideal.

And now Leonard’s in this universe. And now there’s another family of Kirks who has everything Jim has ever wanted - but can never attain.

The Jim of this world seems to understand. Or, at the very least, he recognises the grief welling up on Leonard’s face. “Guess he's not in your world, huh?”

Not what? Chief Engineering Officer, Captain, around? All of those things are true about Samuel Kirk.

“Not really,” Leonard says. Jim’s abandonment issues are not something he wants to get into, even with Jim. He’s sure this universe has a concept of doctor-patient confidentiality too.

Jim leans his chin on his hand. “You can’t lie to save your life, can you?” he says, and he laughs at Leonard’s sputtering. “I guess some times are constant, even if everything else has changed. C'mon, let's go find Sam, see if we can get an update on the sitch. I’m sure he’s got it all figured out by now.”

 

##

 

Sam’s update is for god's sake Jimmy, hold your horses, I’m working on it. He’s sitting inside the transporter like it’s the opening to an enormous sewer, and one of the circular beaming pads has been shoved aside like a manhole cover. It probably wasn’t shoved given how expensive the technology is, but there are so many tools lying about that it’s hard to imagine the engineers working with any sort of grace. Sam looks particularly exasperated with a plasma spanner in his hand. But that’s probably less about the transporter and more about Jim crouched down beside him with a boyish expression of glee.

Leonard stands back and lets them get on with their brotherly bickering. There are three other engineers in the room, and they all keep sneaking glances at him. All of them greeted him with a quick Commander and nod. The only way it could have been weirder was if they'd gone for a salute. Commander is a rank he has absolutely no desire to achieve. The other Leonard McCoy must have wildly different ambitions since it’s clear he hasn’t pursued a career in medicine. Which is a concept Leonard’s still struggling to wrap his head around.

“It’s the blue shirt,” Jim says, once he’s finished tormenting his brother. “It’s throwing people off. They’re definitely thinking you raided my wardrobe.”

Leonard has never felt self-conscious about his uniform before - not even those blasted Academy reds - but now his collar feels a little tight. He resists the urge to tug it. Back home, it’s the worst kept secret that he and Jim are together, even though they’re both firm on the whole no PDA on the job thing. But this isn’t his Enterprise, or his Jim. And he feels like he’s stepping on the other Leonard’s toes.

And not in a good way. He can’t help but feel like he’s unwittingly revealing something that the other Leonard has kept under wraps.

“What colour am I usually wearing then?” he asks, trying to keep the conversation light. “Does he wear, I mean?”

Jim must sense his anxiety, for he guides them back out into the hall. There are more people out here, true, busy with work and passing by, but their eyes cannot linger for long. Jim’s eyes linger, though. His shit-eating grin from bickering with Sam makes a swift return.

“You haven’t figured it out? Gold, obviously. Command gold.”

Leonard bites back a groan. “He’s the XO, isn’t he?”

“Commander McCoy, First Officer,” Jim says with a huge grin. “Technically, also a doctor.”

“PhD?” Leonard prompts, although if it's not in the medicine field then he hasn’t got a hope in hell of guessing what it is. “Christ, I don’t know. History?”

“Astrophysics.”

Sweet Jesus, two disciplines could not be further removed. He can’t help but blurt, “Why?”

“Why?” Jim echoes. “You’re asking me? He’s another you.”

You know him.”

There’s a brief lull in the conversation as Jim calls down the lift. A pair of lieutenants step out in the middle of some kind of debate, their heads knocking together over a PADD. Jim and Leonard jump apart to avoid them.

“I guess he likes numbers, data,” Jim says as they enter the vacated lift. The lieutenants’ calls of sorry Doctor, sorry Commander! follow them in just as the door swooshes shut. “Honestly, he’s a bit of a control freak. There’s a helluva lot of ways to die in space. He likes being able to do something about it. Deck four.”

“Sounds familiar,” Leonard concedes, wondering if his alternate self also met Jim on the Riverside shuttle, drunk off his ass. There’s a lot of shit out there in the world that could make a man feel powerless, and none of it good. “Deck four sounds familiar too. I could do with a shower if I’m a stayin’ a while.”

“That’s where we’re going,” Jim says. “His quarters okay? You can go snooping through it, if you want. He’ll be going through your stuff on your ship, just so you know.”

“That right?”

“Yeah, like I said, control freak. I’m not supposed to leave you unsupervised though. You don’t mind if I just hang around?”

Leonard shrugs. He wobbles slightly as the lift glides to a halt. The picture he’s getting of this world’s Leonard McCoy is a sad one. “Sure, whatever. We’re friends in this universe, right?”

After you, Jim gestures, and out they step. He’s smiling again. He hardly seems to stop smiling. “In every universe.”

 

##

 

Jim gives him a gold shirt to change into, as a souvenir. Leonard huffs but doesn’t particularly want to put his grimy shirt back on, so he accepts the inevitable gawking of the crew back on his own Enterprise when he returns. The shower is bliss - it’s the only thing he’s wanted all day. Now, of course, he wants to go home, and see Jim, and check that his Sickbay hasn’t burned down in his absence, but he’ll take what he can get. He only feels slightly guilty about monopolising the water rations.

The other Leonard’s quarters aren’t so different. Standard-issue is standard-issue. It’s immaculately clean. Hanging up by the door is a Fleet black jacket with the command bands, and beside it is Jim’s doctor’s coat. The kitchenette is the same. There’s a pair of mugs on the counter, both of them scientific and nerdy, but one of them quirky. He guesses that one is Jim’s. There is a noteworthy lack of medical journals, paperwork, and overspill that Leonard is used to seeing from his office in Sickbay, although there is an abundance of physics and mathematical papers that he couldn’t hope to read. Jim is flicking through one at the table when Leonard emerges from the bathroom.

“You said - everything’s changed,” Leonard recalls, looking around the lacklustre space and wondering where the personal touches are: the trinkets from Earth, collections from their travels, the old music player, holos, booze. It feels more like Spock’s quarters, minus the blue-red Vulcan aesthetic. There are only hints of someone living here, let alone two. “Am I really that different from him?”

“Not in that shirt,” Jim says, but they both know he’s deflecting. That’s a bit unexpected given how open this version of him is. “But yeah, I guess so. It’s not a bad thing. And it’s not that obvious. I just know you pretty well.”

Leonard takes a seat at the table. There’s another cup of coffee waiting for him - not tea. “What’s so different about us?”

“It’s hard to say.”

“Is it?”

Jim shoots him a look. And then he gives the journal the same look, too, as though it’s the safer thing to glare at. It damn well might be but it is a maths journal, so maybe not. “It’s stupid. I just… I don’t think he’s as happy as you.”

Leonard’s eyebrows shoot up. He was expecting a play-by-play of all his characteristics and flaws, not a sob story. “Now what does that mean?”

Jim scowls. He rubs his eyes tiredly, knocking his glasses up to his forehead. “It’s - look, I’m not really comfortable talking about him behind his back like this. Even if you’re -” He waves at Leonard. “You’re just - You know who you are, don’t you?”

“Sure.” And at Jim’s pointed look, he adds, “I’m a doctor. A damn good one.”

“Right. And I bet you wanted to be a doctor when you were a kid?”

“Yeah. It runs in the family.”

Go on, Jim gestures. “And what would you be if you could be anything else? Literally anything.”

Anything? He’s never stopped to consider that before - at least, before today. The idea that he could have been an astrophysicist is baffling. Or a First Officer. Or care so much about rank. Or seem so… unapproachable to people. Sure, he tries to come across as a grumpy bastard in his own universe, but he’s not completely blind to the fact that it never works. He’s soft at his centre, so what?

“I don’t know,” Leonard admits. “I can’t imagine growing up with my pa and not wanting to be like him.”

Jim sighs. “I guess that explains it. I told him he’d make a good doctor, once, my Bones. And now you’re here.” He shakes his head ruefully, setting his glasses aside. “I wish he could meet you. Maybe then he’d...”

“Then he’d…?”

His face twists as though it pains him to admit, “...trust me.”

Leonard hums into his coffee. He’s sure he’s had this conversation before, just the other way around. And doesn’t that reveal just about everything he needs to know about this Jim and Leonard?

“I can’t imagine not trusting you,” he says, pausing to sip his drink. “Does he know you love him?”

Jim slumps over the table. He looks younger without his doctor’s coat - without the Command gold. “Yeah. God, I tell him all the time.”

“But let me guess, he’s got commitment issues? No, you don’t have to say nothin’,” Leonard says, holding up his hand. He considers his words carefully, not wanting to reveal too much. “My Jim’s got big commitment issues too. He didn’t have an easy time of life growing up. Things like that, they leave a mark. Now, you don’t need to tell me anythin’ about your McCoy because I’m telling you, you’re doing great kid, an’ he loves you. The way I see it, he’s a bit aloof and he’s got some issues, but he lets you into his space, doesn’t he?”

“I know,” Jim says. “I know. Hell, one of my specialties is family medicine, I get it.”

Family medicine suits him. But that’s beside the point. “You can’t be your own doctor, kid. Sometimes, you need a little outside help to see things clearly. It’s a shame my Jim’s not here, honestly. Then I think you’d see what I’m getting at.”

Jim’s mouth twitches. He reaches for his own cup of coffee in the quirky science mug, just as Leonard predicted. “Another me? Nah Bones,” he says, and he tips the mug in a salute. “I think I’d rather have you.”

 

##

 

Leonard isn’t entirely convinced he’s back in his own universe until Jim full-body tackles him straight off of the transporter pad. The collision sends them tumbling into the engineering station where Scotty and another tech both leap out of the way. Leonard nearly lands hard on his ass for the second time that day, but Jim’s grip keeps him upright as they crash together into a hug.

“Bones! Oh my god, for my sanity, please change shirts.”

Leonard laughs and hugs Jim back just as fiercely. “Jesus kid, give me a second to catch my breath. I could’ve still been that other me, you know.”

Jim laughs too. He holds them apart at arm’s length, radiant with relief. His eyes are suspiciously wet and he definitely hasn’t slept. But he’s gorgeous standing there in his gold. “Are you kidding? I thought he was going to bite my head off when I tried to hug him. He definitely had a few issues, that you.”

Succinct as ever. Leonard leans in for a kiss, engineers and Scotty and PDA be damned. “Did he now?” he mumbles against Jim’s lips, pressing in close. He feels Jim’s hands slide down his back; and he’d never realised how tactile his Jim is until this very moment. “Any you recognise?”

“No. Yes. Probably. I literally do not care right now. I want you checked over in Sickbay. This is never happening again - ever.”

Leonard bites back a smile and allows himself to be ushered out into the hall. It feels good to be back.

“I dunno Jim," he says, with a smile. "I kind of had a good time.”

 

##

 

(His quarters are not quite as he left them. Someone has been snooping around. There’s a pair of coffee mugs on the table, half-empty, and a scientific journal left open on a random page. He strips out of his shirt and changes into a pair of sweats, and then follows Jim quietly, gratefully, to bed.

“What was he like, the other me?” he asks.

Jim wiggles into his welcoming arms. "Hard to say, really. He didn’t say much about himself. He reminded me of… well, someone else, I guess.”

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I didn't pry.”

“Probably for the best,” he says, brushing stray hair from Jim’s eyes. He can feel sleep trying to claim him already, and he is loath to deny it. It’s been a hell of a day. And to think, this morning he thought the worst of his problems would be Deep Space Two. He yawns, fluttering Jim’s hair. “Hm. Y’know I love you, right?”

Jim scoffs. “Obviously. Go to sleep, Bones.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He closes his eyes and pulls Jim close to his chest. He can’t imagine being anywhere else - or anyone else. With these thoughts in mind, he lets the ambience of the Enterprise he knows so well lulls him to sleep.

And just before he slips right under, he’s sure he hears Jim say, "But I think he was happy too.")

Notes:

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