Chapter Text
It was only supposed to be for three months. That was a long time, really - should have been plenty of time for the both of them to cool off. He’d not wanted Bones to go in the first place, but especially not…like that. Words had been said, feelings had been hurt; but this was them so when weren’t things said? It was never real though, not really meant to hurt. With the two of them, there was always a certain push and shove going on, yet they usually stayed well away from the obvious lines…but something had felt off in Kirk’s gut about the whole thing, and so he’d pushed a bit harder.
See, Bones was always a doctor, a healer, first and foremost and they needed his help on this Starbase and Kirk knew that once he heard about it, he’d want to go assist. There was an unknown but worrying disease going around, and Enterprise just happened to be in the area, and so naturally they wanted Bones to help contain it. Jim could give him no good reason not to go except a bad feeling he had brewing; he should’ve stopped there. Should’ve just told his friend to be extra careful, watch your back, report in whenever he could. Jim would make sure they’d have McCoy’s back in case anything actually did go wrong.
Only thing was…Jim didn’t leave it there.
The head doctor there turned out to be an old instructor from early days at the Academy, someone Bones had looked up to at one point in time. Jim hadn’t liked him from the word ‘go;’ there was far too much hush-hush surrounding the reasons for his sudden absence before their second year. Bones had been busy with other things at the time and hadn’t apparently heard or given any credence to the rumors, but Jim had listened. He wasn’t naive enough to believe everything he’d heard, of course, but if there was even a shred of truth in it…
He warned Bones against Dr. Roberts. McCoy had become defensive, and so of course Jim’s response had been to react in kind. That’s when they’d argued. That’s when he’d uttered the words that tasted of ash in his mouth, now: He’d said fine, that McCoy could go and make history with his new best bud, this other doctor guy, and don’t come crying to me when he stabs you in the back. You can both go to – Well. Jim couldn’t recall the exact words he’d used, nor what McCoy’s response to that had been, just the sentiment. He does remember his best friend’s face twisted up in quite an angry expression. He remembers the glare, of course, but underneath that he also remembers the look of hurt that had flashed for just a second before it was concealed again. He remembers throwing his hands into the air, shaking his head as he turned and walked out of the transport room.
He’d not even bothered to message Bones about anything except work for the entire three months his best friend had been gone, no matter how much every formal word and phrase cut into his soul.
And now?
Now, three months and two days since their fight…
Leonard McCoy was missing.
~*~
McCoy had felt what he considered to be a righteous anger towards Jim for his doubting of Dr. Roberts - how dare his friend talk that way about his old mentor. Jim didn’t know Roberts, he’d never truly met the man! How dare he make a second-hand judgment like that. Still, Bones could never completely ignore one of Kirk’s gut feelings so, even though he was still pissed at his best friend, he grouchily but dutifully kept his eyes and ears open.
There were actually a few things that he’d noticed right away, but it had easily been explained by a weary doctor with an overwhelmed medical team. McCoy hadn’t totally forgotten these little things, but he let them slide for now. However, as the weeks went by, McCoy had began to notice more and more things that gave him pause. The lax attitude of the entire base was a cause enough for concern, really. His pride still would not let him share these concerns with Kirk, though, because, darn it all…he was really beginning to wonder if he had been wrong, and his friend had been right about Dr. Roberts all along.
Finally, about a week before he was to return to his own ship, he found out something of which he could not ignore. The nature of it was quite serious, and it was rather unsettling that he seemed to be the only one upset by it, so he kept his cards close to his chest for the time being. He went back to his room and recorded a message for Jim, but was interrupted before he could even think about sending it off. He wasn’t sure how much the out-going communication was monitored anyway, but he made sure to hide the recording on his PADD in a location that would only be plainly obvious to Jim, probably, should something befall him here.
Dr. Roberts was unethical in his practices. McCoy is who he is so he gave the other doctor one warning: Fess up, change what you’re doing and it will go better for you - and if you don’t, then McCoy’s own hand would be forced in this matter. He’d tried to appeal to Dr. Roberts sense of compassion, trying to move him to act on his own. McCoy couldn’t have known the other man had no such feelings as ‘compassion’ or ‘pity.’ He thought he may have gotten through to the man - Dr. Roberts had nodded and even looked slightly ashamed at McCoy’s words, but maybe that had just been for the security camera McCoy had made certain he was next to when he’d called him in - just a bit, but the looks he was getting now made him wonder otherwise, too little too late.
He’d not found out until later on that that security camera was non-functional at time, unfortunately.
The confrontation not having gone as he had wished, and no solid evidence to substantiate the truths McCoy knew to be, well, he had begun to feel nervous. It was only a few days, now, ‘til the Enterprise was supposed to return. He could hold out until then. His fingers itched to grab his communicator and tell them to Hurry up, but he refrained; he was not some frail southern belle in need of rescue.
He edited that slightly, the day before his ship was supposed to come in.
McCoy couldn’t very well scan every little thing he ate - and really he had no reason to believe any of it would be poisoned, so why would he? He’d really not thought that Dr. Roberts would stoop so low as to actually drug him. Thing was, he really didn’t know the man at all. About halfway through his breakfast in the mess, the odd taste and the sudden sluggishness of his limbs finally registered, and he looked up with alarm at the man sitting down the table from him. Roberts gave him a smirk and lifted his coffee mug in a salute.
Shaky as a newborn colt, McCoy stood up from the table and stumbled away. His comm…if he, if he could make it back to his room…call the Enterprise, call Jim, they could…
“Now, now, McCoy. You’ve had your chance to run. Let’s take a walk now, son.” Dr. Roberts was suddenly standing next to Len, holding up his right side, arm around him tightly enough that McCoy could not break away.
OK. … OK, so, now it was sorta looking like maybe, just maybe, he might be needing that rescue after all.
-=-=-
McCoy had a raging headache.
Why's his head hurtin' so bad? Had someone finally had enough of his unique charm and actually belted him one? The pounding in his head didn’t quite feel like a hangover - it was centered more toward one side, now he thought on it - but he couldn’t remember what had happened. He groaned and tried to move his arm, but found that, well, he couldn’t. Trying to move his other arm and both his legs resulted in the same conclusion, adrenaline spiked as he began to realize: he was tied down. Tied to a chair, actually.
“Nice of you to finally join me,” he heard Roberts say as McCoy finally pried his eyes open. The man was looming over McCoy, grinning like a cat who’d just gotten into the cream. The gleam in his eye spoke of all kinds of crazy - how come McCoy had not seen this earlier? Hindsight is 20/20 and all that, he supposed…
He still couldn’t believe that Kirk was right, darn him. Fat lot of good that did him now, though.
“What ‘n hellfire is your problem?” McCoy spat out, surprised to find that he was not gagged. Roberts just smiled at him, shook his head then turned away to mess with something on a nearby table. From where he was seated, McCoy couldn’t tell exactly what the other man was doing.
“You’ve become a pebble in my shoe, McCoy. I cannot have what you know getting out.” Dr. Roberts said, still turned away. McCoy lifted an eyebrow, not believing the audacity of the other doctor.
“So, what? You’re just gonna kill me? I think someone’ll notice when I don’t report back to my post, genius. You’ll be the first one they look at, too.” McCoy allowed himself a smirk, thinking of the vid he’d left for Jim to find - provided the other doctor had left his PADD alone. The other man was not terribly intelligent, in McCoy’s experience, so hopefully so.
“Oh, I took care of that. No worries. There was a nice note left open on your PADD, addressed to your Captain. It was kind of you to let him know you’d be joining me on an aide mission for a week or two.” Dr. Roberts informed him, and now McCoy could see he had an IV bag in his hand. His words, though, made his eyebrow lift high once again - because, really? Even if from a distance, Jim would be able to tell the note wasn’t from him…probably. Maybe.
But what if he was still angry with him and didn’t even bother checking it out?
McCoy shook his head. Even angry, Jim’d look into it, because that is the kind of Captain he is. It was unlike McCoy to not let the Captain know of his change in plans, face-to-face or on a vid call, it was just not how they did things. Jim would look into it, and no doubt find his vid, and hopefully be able to trace wherever the heck this lunatic had taken him. He could now see that Dr. Roberts was hanging some kind of IV fluid bag onto a hook on a pole, and, giving McCoy a sinister smile, he was now wheeling that pole over this way. Looking down at his left arm, McCoy noticed much too late that there was already an IV port taped in place and ready to go right there on his arm.
“What the hell are you doing?” McCoy’s gaze flew back up to Roberts, and as the man got closer to him with whatever was in that fluid bag, McCoy tried yanking on his restraints all the harder. He was restrained at the wrists and elbows, just above the knees and at his ankles too. He couldn’t move an inch, and his heart was hammering as Roberts reached over to unfurl the line.
“It’s nothing personal, son. It’s just that, I cannot have you sharing what you know with anyone else. Plus. Well, I thought perhaps we could have a little fun too.” He calmly explained with a vacant smile, pausing for a moment to grin as he watched McCoy uneasily eying the IV bag. “I know you’re probably wondering - what’s in the bag, hm? What are you about to be infused with?” Roberts laughed, a hysterical, high-pitched sound. It grated like nails on an old-fashioned chalkboard.“Hm. You well know, don’t you doctor, that there are many a disease that could be in this bag; in seconds now you could be bleeding from your eyeballs, dying a horrible, painful death…” he laughed again, then readied the line and set a slow drip to start.
McCoy’s wild eyes were riveted on the fluid’s progress down the line, and, breath coming out in panicked gasps, he tried again to yank himself away, even tried to buck forward to tear out the darn thing with his teeth - all to no avail. There was a firm restraint also around his chest, holding him securely in place so that he could do not a thing except watch the proceedings.
“You’re mad. If you do this, you’ll never be able to practice anywhere ever again - I’ll make sure of that. An’ if I don’t, Jim ‘n Spock sure as shootin’ will.” McCoy spat out, fear and anger warring inside him to form an interesting mix of emotions, but right now he was letting the anger burn through a little more. Roberts shook his head, crossing his arms as he frowned down at McCoy.
“Ah, but my experimental injections are ready - I must have a test subject.” He paused, looking off to the left, a thoughtful expression coming over his face. “Although, I could perform some of the tests on Captain Kirk. Yes, I could work out a way of transferring the substance through a handshake, that would be completely undetectable, for a while at least…or, oh. Having a half-Vulcan test subject, now that would be interesting. Maybe introduced with a well-placed dart, or slipped into the food? Vulcans are all about order and precision - don’t you think they would just love being a guinea pig for a drug that’s all about chaos and confusion? How long do you think he would last?” Roberts inquired, leaning forward with a leering grin. McCoy clicked his mouth shut to prevent what he was currently thinking from slipping out, and he considered how he need not fear, clearly this psycho did not have Jim nor Spock within his grasp, and indeed would not be able to get close enough to either of them to perform any such actions…
McCoy did not want to die, certainly. However, if he could prevent anything bad from happening to Kirk or Spock, or anyone else for that matter, then he’d gladly take one for the team. He’d take it on the chin, like a champ, and keep smiling - well, glaring - through it.
“...however,” Roberts began again with a sigh, leaning back slightly as he unfolded his arms and looked at the IV bag again, “I will admit here and now that my intent is not to kill you. At least, not right away.” Lovingly, Roberts ran a finger down the outside of the bag, and then smiled again at McCoy. “Perhaps there is some sort of slow-acting disease in there, hm? Something that won’t be found for ages - a slow poison to eat away at your very…bones.” He cackled again, grinning at McCoy who only wanted to up-chuck right this moment, and then turned away. “I’ll leave you to settle on that thought, now. Ta!” With that, the other man left his field of vision and McCoy heard a door snick open and then closed.
McCoy inhaled a shuddery breath, his wild eyes caught again by the unknown fluid flowing into him now - could he feel anything already? Was his headache getting worse, or was that just his imagination? Joint aches, cramps, cold sweats? This whole scenario caused him to break out in a sweat, but it was a million times worse not knowing because, well, he had a super and superbly overactive imagination. Forcing himself to take a few calming breaths, McCoy closed his eyes and leaned his head back.
It was a bluff, it was all a bluff. Surely Dr. Roberts wasn’t stupid enough to think he could actually get away with doing anything of real lasting harm to him. Jim and Spock would find him, they would come for him. Squeezing his eyes shut even more tightly, he forced back the sob that wanted to escape and tossed his head to the side, wondering if this time, well, this time…his friends might just be a little too late.