Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Establishing alliances or negotiating treaties with new species was always a bit stressful for the young Captain of the Enterprise. He’d never been the most eloquent when it came to speeches, and he was always afraid of stumbling over his words or saying the wrong thing. Thankfully, despite all his worries, he had done pretty well thus far, having only notably failed with establishing a truce between the Teenaxi Delegation and the Fibonan Republic. Granted, the diminutive Teenaxi had been an extremely paranoid species who hadn’t been all that interested in being allies with the Fibonans anyway, having found fault with every word that had come out of his mouth.

Thankfully, the Telarians were a much more agreeable people. They were a tall elegant-looking species, with pale skin with a fluffy collar around their necks, and large dark eyes and small slits for nostrils. Their legs were double-jointed, with small little paws at the ends, and they expressed their emotions through the twin feathered antennae atop their heads that reminded him of a moth.

The one before him wore a vibrant red cloth, wrapped loosely around his head and neck with ornate beads woven into strands and hanging down beside his face. He was the planet’s highest ranking member, the High Priest, or Ma’ja’hiri as he was formerly addressed, of Telaris, Sh’uyeri.

“It is my honor and privilege to inform you that the Federation has reviewed your application and have accepted you as a member,” Jim told the alien. “We welcome the people of Telaris.”

“You honor us with your acceptance, Captain.” The high priest inclined his head. “This is a most happy day for us. One for celebration.” He gave a wide flourish of his arm, and an attendant approached the young Captain with an ornately carved wooden box. “A gift for you, honorable Captain Kirk, for your great generosity.”

The box was opened, revealing a large shimmering sphere, almost the size of a tennis ball. “This is one of the finest Oruscan pearls we posses, a rare and valuable commodity here on Telaris. A pearl this size is believed to take three hundred cycles to grow.”

“Are you sure you wish to give us something so precious?” Jim asked.

“Please. It would honor us greatly if you accept this token of our gratitude.” The attendant handed over the box to Jim, who gave a respectful bow of his head.

“On behalf of the Federation, I thank you for this most generous gift,” he told the high priest. Spock, who’d been a few steps behind him, moved forward and carefully took the box from Jim’s arms.

Sh’uyeri inclined his head, antennae curling around. “It is a most deserving gift, honorable Captain Kirk. Now, we shall prepare for the festivities! Tonight! Yes. Tell your people on your Enterprise to come and partake of our food and wines.”

“I shall do that, Ma’ja’hiri Sh’uyeri,” Jim replied, “Thank you for your gracious offer.”

“Tonight then!” The high priest’s antennae almost seemed to dance.

“Tonight,” Jim agreed. He pulled out his communicator. “Enterprise. Two to beam up!”

Golden light enveloped them and then they were in the transporter room.

“Well done, Captain.” Spock informed him as they stepped off the pad and exited the room. “The admittance of the Telarians into the Federation was handled quite admirably.”

“Did you have any doubt, Spock?”

“I calculated a twenty point three percent chance of failure, considering that the last time you attempted to broker a peace, it resulted with you having several sentient lifeforms attached rather aggressively to your person.”

Jim balked. “That was...that was over a year ago!” he protested. “And that wasn’t my fault! They were adamant that they were going to be eaten!”

“One year, seventeen days, and sixteen hours ago to be precise.”

Jim shot the Vulcan a dirty look as they walked. “Are you keeping score or something?” he pouted. “And besides, haven’t I done good since?”

“Vulcans do not ‘keep score’ as you put it,” Spock replied. “Also, the Enterprise-A was being constructed over a period of six months, twenty-six days, and fourteen hours at Starbase Yorktown’s spacedock. This was the first mission of negotiating with a new species since your attempt with the Teenaxi Delegation.”

Jim sighed. “But...I still did good, right?”

“Your need for self-reassurance is most illogical,” Spock told him. “But...yes. You did well, Jim.”

The Captain grinned. “Well, let’s put that away,” he indicated the box in Spock’s arms, “and go let the crew know the good news. We have a party to attend!”

“As you say, Captain,” Spock said. “However, given your inexplicably long list of allergens, might I suggest we bring along Doctor McCoy as well?”

“Right!” Jim agreed. “Bones is going to love this!”

Spock quipped a brow as his Captain nearly skipped ahead in his excitement. “I highly doubt that will be his reaction, Captain.”

The Vulcan proved to be right.

“We’re doing what where now, Jim?” the doctor said blankly.

“The Telarians are hosting a celebratory party!” Jim told him. “You need to come. They said there will be alcohol.”

“First off, Jim,” Leonard replied, “Are you sure consuming anything there is wise? You could have an anaphylactic reaction to any number of things down there! Secondly, I don’t drink all the time. You make it sound like I’m a damned alcoholic!”

“If I may correct you, Doctor,” Spock said, “fifty-five point four percent of the time you do have an alcoholic beverage in your immediate vicinity.”

Leonard scowled at him before throwing his hands up in defeat. “Fine! Fine. But I’m only coming because I don’t need the Captain here getting himself killed just for sniffing the wrong flower or something.” He jabbed a finger at Spock. “Not because there’s drinks involved!”

“Drinks help though, right, Bones?” Jim teased him.

“Whenever you’re involved? Damn right they do.”

Four hours later, that’s exactly where Leonard found himself, holding a glass of the most potent alcohol he could find and eyeballing his danger-prone Captain from where he stood partway across the room alongside Spock, chattering away with the high priest.

He’d made Jim almost regret taking him along, having jabbed him with a few precautionary hypos beforehand since the fair-haired man had insisted he’d be trying the local cuisine. A couple more were currently clipped to his belt, just in case. Thus far so good, but he knew better than to gamble with the other’s life. He could swear that the young Captain was a magnet for trouble.

Even with his being tense regarding the other man’s health, dinner had been thoroughly enjoyable. While he often preferred a simple peach cobbler or a well-made steak with a baked potato on the side, even he had to admit to himself that the Telarian’s were quite good cooks. He wasn’t sure what the main course had been, the food having been colorful, but it had been both sweet and savory at the same time. Dessert had been a simple green fruity sorbet which had tickled his taste buds. He rarely indulged in cold treats, but he vaguely wondered if he could nab the recipe later from one of the locals and input it into the ship’s replicator system. It probably wouldn’t taste quite the same as the real thing, but he thought it was worth a try anyway.

Strands of bright florals hung around the massive room they’d been directed to after eating, with sideboards off to one side piled with unknown fruits and small treats for those who were still hungry. Drinks were being served by several of the Telarians at a counter nearby. Melodic music echoed in in the air, emanating from a trio of female Telarians plucking away at string instruments.

It surprised him that they managed to throw together such a well-prepared event in the span of just a couple hours, especially for the amount of guests present. Not including their own people, at least a hundred of the Enterprise’s crew had been able to accept the time off to attend, which had thrilled the aliens, their antennae twisting and bouncing with excitement. Though presumptuous of them, he figured the Telarians probably had anticipated that they would be accepted into the Federation’s ranks. In all fairness however, there had been no reason standing out as to why they might not have been accepted.

He swirled the orange colored liquid in his glass before taking a swig of it, his tongue picking up on the sharp tones of the alcohol. Not his preference (give him a bottle of good old Kentucky bourbon or Tennessee whiskey any day of the week), but it was certainly strong, the substance burning his throat slightly as it went down. Glancing out the towards the terrace, he could see the sky darkening from day to night. Turning back, his eyes swiftly re-located his wayward Captain and his shadow of a first officer. Idly lifting his glass to his lips again, he wondered if he should wander over and see what they were so deep in discussion about.

A Telarian suddenly turned sharply, bumping right into the Doctor. Leonard choked on the sip of alcohol he’d just taken, but somehow manged to keep from spilling any over himself.

“Ah, many pardons!” The Telarian rested a hand upon Leonard’s shoulder to steady him, and he felt an odd coolness emanating from the point of contact. It’s antennae suddenly straightened upwards, more alert. It started twittering rapidly in it’s native tongue, the universal translator failing to pick up what it was saying.

The trio he’d been considering approaching overheard the commotion and headed over, with Jim having a concerned expression on his face. The high priest looked towards the other Telarian and both aliens began quickly conversing with each other, with the second’s own antennae slowly unfurling upwards to match the first’s.

“Everything alright?” Jim asked quietly, and Leonard could only shrug.

“Many apologies, honorable Captain Kirk,” Sh’uyeri spoke. “This one failed to be more attentive to his surroundings.” He indicated the other alien, who bowed deeply towards Leonard. “If I may, I would like to present another gift to your companion here, for our negligence.”

“That’s really not necessary-,” Leonard started, but the alien cut him off.

“Please, I must insist. May I request your hand?”

The doctor looked unsure, but caved in at Jim’s insistent look, the other ever so discreetly tipping his head towards the high priest. Inwardly, Leonard sighed. Last thing he wanted to do was be responsible for some sort of diplomatic incident should he refuse, so he reluctantly stretched out his free left hand and the alien grasped it firmly.

The high priest gently ran his three fingers over Leonard’s palm. The same coolness from where the other had touched his shoulder spread across his hand and up his arm, causing a tingling sensation. Tilting his head slightly, the alien seemed to be studying the human in front of him.

‘We grieve for your past, esh’ymir.’

The Telarian’s mouth had not opened, but his voice words echoed clearly within Leonard’s head, and he barely managed to refrain from recoiling away. There had been no reports of the Telarian’s being telepathic, but it was a relatively common ability among species. Even the Enterprise had it’s own touch-telepath in the form of it’s first officer.

It was hard for him to not bolt. He had never cared for those with the ability to look into his mind. Yet, the alien did not seem interested in prying, only speaking soft words.

‘Here is to renewal of a childhood lost.’

With one long elegant finger, Sh’uyeri drew a symbol across Leonard’s skin, the lines glowing blue as he went, despite the lack of any sort of writing utensil or paint. When he finished, the design brightened momentarily before disappearing.

‘Trust and be happy.’

The high priest stepped back, inclining his head towards Leonard. “We pray you enjoy our gift to you, Doctor.” The lithe alien turned back towards Jim and Spock. “Many thanks for humoring us. We acknowledge that we can be a persistent people at times.”

“That’s quite all right, Ma’ja’hiri Sh’uyeri,” insisted Jim. “No need to thank us. Rather, I would thank you and your people again for the kindness and hospitality you have shown us. This has been a most enjoyable experience for us. We look forward to working with your people in the future.”

“As do we, honorable Captain Kirk.” Sh’uyeri inclined his head. “Regretfully, the hour grows late so I fear we will be unable to finish our conversation from before. I bid you all am’leyshi. Ah...good tidings.”

“You as well,” said Jim. The high priest slowly walked away from them, and he glanced over at the Doctor, who was examining his hand. “You okay, Bones?”

“Yeah,” replied Leonard, wiggling his fingers as if to check that everything was in working order.

“So...what was that exactly?” Jim asked. “Do you feel any different?”

Leonard put his hand down and looked at the Captain. “No different than usual.”

“Many cultures offer blessings in lieu of a physical gift,” said Spock. “Typically for good health, happiness or fortune. Ma’ja’hiri Sh’uyeri has likely presented you with one.”

A soft snort escaped Leonard. “How ironic if it was for good health. I’m already a doctor, so that would be rather redundant, wouldn’t it?”

“There are multiple blessings which-”

“It was a joke, Spock.”

“...I see.”

Rolling his eyes, Leonard looked down at his nearly empty glass. “Well, I don’t know about you two, but I need another drink.” He lifted it, giving a small wiggle. “And no, before you mention it again, I am not here just for the drinks. I just don’t know what else to do with my time.”

“I’ll have one of whatever you’re having.” Jim then grinned as he added on, “You really need a hobby, Bones.”

“I have one. It’s taking care of you, ya damned infant.”

There was a laugh as he turned towards the bar counter. “Ah, come on. You know you love me!”

“About as much as a poke in the eye,” he shot back over his shoulder, but the corner of his lips were twitching upwards. He weaved through the crowd, finishing the rest of his drink along the way. By the time he reached the counter, he became aware that his steps had slowed noticeably. Handing the empty glass over to one of the Telarians, an unexpected yawn interrupted him as he ordered two replacement drinks.

“Thanks.” He teetered for a moment when he turned around and a hand caught him by the elbow.

“Doctor McCoy? Are ye alright?” The worried face of the ship’s chief engineer looked back at him.

Leonard attempted to blink the sudden fatigue from his eyes. “Mr. Scott. Ah, yeah, just a bit tired.”

“If yer sure,” the Scotsman said dubiously as the doctor yawned again. “Perhaps ye should call it a night. The commander will make sure that Captain is fine. Ye needn’t worry.”

“Thinking about it. Have a good night, Mr. Scott.”

“Aye, you too.”

Carefully making his way back towards Jim and Spock, Leonard couldn’t help but feel a bit rattled. It was unlike him to feel so tired. The drinks perhaps? Or more likely he was simply over working himself. He might need less sleep than most people, but at his core, he was still human.

The pair were quietly talking away about the ship’s schedule for the next few days, or rather, Jim was talking and Spock simply added in the occasional comment. Leonard nudged the blonde gently with the back of his hand. “Here.”

“Thanks,” said Jim as he took the glass. Sipping the alcohol, he wrinkled his nose slightly and stuck out the tip of his tongue with a small disgusted sound. “Bones, what is this?”

“The drink you ordered.”

“It’s awful,” Jim coughed.

“Yes it is.”

The captain shook his head. “You just love to torment me, don’t you?”

“I won’t deny that.” Leonard pressed his mouth against his shoulder as yet another, deeper yawn escaped him.

“You alright there, Bones?” asked Jim. The doctor appeared to be on the pale side.

No. “Yes,” Leonard replied. “Just a bit tired. If it’s alright with you, I’d like to head back to the Enterprise now and call it an early night.”

“Uh, yeah.” Jim looked slightly concerned. “Sure thing, Bones.”

Leonard lifted his own untouched drink to eye level, then sighed, holding it out towards the Vulcan. Spock took it after a moment’s hesitation.

“I did not request a drink, Doctor.”

“Yeah, well, now you have one. Cheers.” He plucked one of the hypos from his belt and passed it over as well. “I don’t think anything’s going to happen anymore, but you never know. Better safe than sorry, I always say. Jab him with this if he starts to swell up, then call me on my comm immediately, you hear?”

“Of course, Doctor.”

“And you-” he clapped Jim on the shoulder, “try to stay out of trouble.”

“Aww, you’re no fun,” Jim quipped, then more seriously, “Have a good night, Bones.”

Leonard pulled out his communicator and the Enterprise beamed him back aboard. Deciding against any further activities for the night, he made a beeline straight to his quarters, the fatigue hanging over him like a storm cloud. The moment the door to his room shut behind him, he collapsed onto his bed, not even bothering to take his clothes off.

Turning over, he started up at the ceiling, before throwing an arm over his eyes. “Lights, off.”

The brief trip to the planet had certainly worn on him. While it had started off nice, he still was feeling uncomfortable over what had happened between him and the high priest.

Damn Telarians and their touchy-feelyness.

Was that why he was so tired suddenly? The contact had been an odd sensation after all. And what had the alien meant by his past and a lost childhood?

Thinking about it only ended up giving him more questions.

With a frustrated sigh, he rolled onto his side and closed his eyes.

Regrets. That’s certainly what he had. Jim’s head hurt and his stomach was a twisted knot. He knew he shouldn’t have finished that terrible drink his friend had given him. Served him right he supposed. The doctor’s taste for potent alcohols was something he never could quite understand.

Surprisingly, or perhaps not, considering his personality, Spock had consumed the drink in its entirety, his face remaining blank throughout. Whether he’d liked it or not, Jim didn’t know. After setting the empty glass down on an empty table, the first officer only pointed out that they both needed to be up early for Alpha shift and that they should retire for the night.

Feeling the beginnings of a hangover coming on, Jim had readily agreed.

Now he was sitting on the bridge, attempting to shield his eyes from the overhead lights burning into his retinas.

“Ugh..” He hated to ask, but he needed a fix from the doctor. “Mr. Spock, you have the conn.” He shuffled towards the lift.

“Mr. Sulu, you have the bridge.” Spock was right behind him. “You appear ill, Captain.”

“I’m fine, Spock.” Jim waved a hand as the lift took them down towards medbay. “Just a hangover.”

“You only consumed four alcoholic beverages, Captain,” Spock noted. “I had presumed you to have a higher tolerance for the substance given your history.”

“Yeah, well...that last one nearly knocked me on my ass,” Jim grumbled.

They strode into the medical facility and Jim poked his head into the CMO’s office. He was surprised to find it empty. “Bones?”

“Oh, Captain! I wasn’t expecting you to stop by.” Nurse Chapel approached him from across the room. “Is there something you need?”

“No, well, actually yes. I need something for a hangover headache.” She nodded and rummaged through the medicine cabinet. He scanned the room but didn’t see his friend anywhere. “Doesn’t Doctor McCoy have a 0900 shift?” he asked her as she approached him, a hypo in hand.

“Here, you should be fine with this one.” There was a pinch at the side of his neck and a hiss, and Jim sighed in relief as the throbbing at the front of his skull eased almost immediately. Chapel nodded. “And, yes, sir, Doctor McCoy is supposed to be here, but he hasn’t checked in yet. It’s quite unlike him to be late. I was just about to comm him.”

Jim waved a dismissive hand. “No need. I’ll go check on him myself. As you were.”

“Of course, sir.”

He left medbay with his head much clearer and his first officer just a step behind him. “Computer, what is the location of Doctor McCoy?” he asked.

“Doctor McCoy is currently located in his quarters.”

“Is he still sleeping?” Jim asked quietly, more to himself than the Vulcan.

“Perhaps, though it is most unusual for the Doctor to fail to report in to his scheduled duties,” Spock replied as they walked along the corridor. “In fact, I do not believe he has ever missed a shift in the time he’s served aboard the Enterprise.”

“Why does that not surprise me?” Jim said. “Bones is what one would call an overachiever.”

“This incident aside, for which I am sure there is a reasonable explanation, work production would be far more efficient if the crew were to follow his example.” He paused, before adding, “Yourself included, Captain.”

“Was that an attempt at a joke, Spock?”

“I do not know what you mean.”

“Uh-huh.”

They stopped in front of the doctor’s room and Jim knocked. “Bones? It’s Jim. Can I come in?”

There was a loud thump and the clatter of something hitting the wall.

“Bones?” When the door remained shut still, Jim began to worry his friend had somehow hurt himself. “Computer, override Doctor McCoy’s room. Security code Alpha zero three seven one nine.”

“Security override accepted.” The door slid open and they stepped in cautiously.

“What the hell-?” Jim muttered.

The bedding was in a large pile in the middle of the bed and the dresser drawers had been pulled out, a mess of rumpled clothing lying scattered around the room. The doctor’s PADD lay in one corner, the screen cracked.

“Captain, should I inform security-?” Jim raised a hand and gave a soft ‘hush,’ silencing his first officer.

“Listen.”

There was a soft sniffling sound and both turned their gaze towards the bathroom.

“Bones?” Jim moved around the bed to the other end of the room and gently rapped his fingers against the door. “Everything okay in there?”

The sniffling stopped, then a small voice that was most definitely not Bones cried out. “Go away!”

Spock had his phaser out as Jim pressed the button to slide the door open. The young captain blinked in surprise at the sight before them. A small boy was huddled in the corner, wearing only a blue Starfleet uniform shirt that was two sizes too big for him. Furious hazel eyes glared at him from under a messy mop of dark hair and tear stains ran down his fair cheeks. Jim ducked as the kid, who didn’t look to be more than maybe eight years old, lobbed a toothbrush at his head, the item instead bouncing off of Spock’s chest.

“Go away!” the boy yelled again.

“Who are you and where is Doctor McCoy?” asked Spock as he lowered the phaser.

“Leave me alone!” The boy attempted to make himself smaller, scooting himself as far back as he could in the corner between the toilet and the shower and burying himself in the blue shirt.

“Spock, put that away,” hissed Jim, indicating the phaser. His eyes snapped back to the child, whose familiarity was beginning to tie a knot in his stomach, “Computer,” he asked again, “what is the location of Doctor McCoy?”

“Doctor McCoy is currently located in his quarters.”

Spock’s brows furrowed marginally as he came to a conclusion. “Impossible.”

Jim crouched down to be eye level with the child. “I think we know now what that ‘gift’ the Telarians gave him is.”

Chapter Text

“Doctor, please tell me that this kid just happens to be wearing Bone’s things and is not actually Bones.”

Geoffrey M’Benga grimaced and handed his PADD over to Jim. “Sorry to disappoint you, sir. I don’t know how they did it, but DNA doesn’t lie. For all intents and purposes, this child is Leonard McCoy. Somehow the Telarians managed to regress him to an earlier stage of his life. I estimate he’s about ten years old.”

“Can we undo it?” Jim asked as he read over the report.

“Not without knowing how they did it in the first place.” M’Benga glanced over to the boy, who was seated quietly on a biobed, slowly swinging his legs back and forth and looking around the room with a mixed look of both awe and wariness. “This is beyond my skills.”

“Then our only option is to contact the Telarians,” Spock stated.

“I’m afraid so, Commander.”

As Spock and the doctor continued to go over the results of the examination, Jim turned to study the brown-haired child. It had taken Spock and him nearly a half hour to coax the boy out of the bathroom, and even longer to actually get him to leave the room and follow them down to the medbay. Until they’d ‘re-introduced’ themselves, the boy had been as an impregnable wall. It pained him that there was no recognition of any kind in his friend’s eyes, which instead were full of fright and confusion. He had said little to them after they managed to gain some semblance of trust. Or it could have been just straight up fear, not knowing where he was, that made the boy cooperative.

The glare he’d given them when Spock attempted to assist him with his baggy clothes, the same expression his adult self would often give, made them step back, letting him tie a knot in the belt himself and roll up his pant legs. He’d ditched the boots, instead just shuffling down the hall with only the standard issue black socks covering his feet. Upon reaching medbay, the boy had been surprisingly agreeable despite his obvious discomfort, allowing the medical staff to examine him and even draw a blood sample.

“Here.” The head nurse, Christine Chapel was by his side, having already caught wind of the situation and passed him a bundle of plain clothes topped with a small pair of boots. “I managed to get his measurements during the examination and got these for him. He’s the same height as Keenser, so it was easy getting a set from the replicator system.”

“Thanks, Christine.”

“Of course, sir.” She glanced at the boy, a sad look in her eyes. “Despite his faults, Doctor McCoy is one of the best medical professionals I have ever worked under. To see him become so young and vulnerable...” Her expression darkened. “If you don’t mind me saying, Captain...give those Telarians hell for this.”

Jim clenched his jaw. “I intend to.” Smoothly his features into something softer, he cautiously approached the boy so as not to startle him. “Umm...I have these for you,” he said, holding out the clothes. “They’ll fit you better than what you currently have on.”

Dark eyes eyed him carefully, and after a minute small hands reached out to take the bundle. “Thank you,” was the response, so quiet Jim almost missed it.

“The bathroom is over there.” Jim pointed off to the side of the room. “You can change in there. Do you want help-?”

Instead of an answer, there was rustle of clothing as the boy slid himself off the bed and clumsily walked towards the bathroom, trying not to trip over the long pant legs. Five minutes later, he emerged again, dressed in a neat little long-sleeved shirt and slacks. The previous clothes were heaped in a pile in his arms.

He stared down at it, “I don’t know-”

“I can take it from here, si...dear,” Christine moved forward and took them from him. He stiffened momentarily, but didn’t move away. She gave a small smile and retreated towards the chute for the soiled linens.

“So...uh…” The boy didn’t look up, shifting nervously on his feet. “Where am I?”

Of course. Jim nearly smacked himself. It was no wonder the child was so cautious. He didn’t seem to remember much, if anything, and they had explained nothing to him, so he was bound to have questions. “You’re aboard the USS Enterprise.”

“USS Enterprise?” he repeated, baffled. “Why am I on a navy ship?”

It was Jim’s turn to be confused. “Navy ship? The Enterprise isn’t-”

“Excuse me, Captain.”

Jim’s head snapped towards his first officer. Spock cast a glance towards the child before setting firmly back on the blonde. “Doctor M’Benga found something unusual in Doctor McCoy’s blood work,” he spoke quietly. “There seems to be peculiar anomalies at a cellular level. He is currently working on identifying them.”

There was a sudden hard lump in Jim’s throat. “Is he sick?”

“Unlikely. This is something that appears to be a part of his genetic code, though admittedly, I have never seen anything like it myself. Apologies, but without more information, I cannot give you a clear report. We must contact the Telarians to resolve Doctor McCoy’s current predicament.”

“Understood, Commander.” He looked back down at the boy, who was giving Spock a questioning look. “Uh, hey, kid...Leonard.” The boy’s eyes flicked to Jim, his brow furrowed. “I need you to stay here for a bit, okay? There’s some people I need to talk to.”

The hazel-eyes widened. “No!” he spoke loudly, then flinched. “Please don’t go.”

“We’ll be back, I promise,” The child’s sudden attachment to him was a surprise to Jim, but not an unwanted one. Perhaps he remembered something. He beckoned at Christine and she gave a curt nod and came closer. “Nurse Chapel here is really nice and will look after you while I’m gone,” he explained. “I’ll be back as soon as I can, okay?”

The boy looked uneasy, but the small head drooped and there was a soft, “Okay.”

Straightening up, Jim gave the nurse an apologetic glance, but she shook her head. “Go, we got this.”

“Thanks, Christine.”

With renewed determination, Jim strode out of the room and headed towards the bridge.

Tightly gripping the armrests of his seat, Jim tried his best not to let his frustration of the situation show on his face, but he was failing miserably.

“You appear upset, Captain,” the Telarian high priest said on the view screen, tilting his head to one side. “Has our gift displeased you in some way?”

No shit. “If your gift was to make my Chief Medical Officer a child, then yeah, just a bit.”

News to them, several of his bridge officers turned to stare at him in shock, but Jim ignored them.

“We simply wished to give him the opportunity to experience a happier childhood,” the Telarian explained, antennae curling. “His sorrow was great and we had hoped to alleviate some of it.”

“You turned him into a kid because he had a bad childhood?” Jim was flustered. True, he felt sympathy if Bones had had a hard time growing up, but many kids had crappy childhoods. He had had a crappy childhood.

“We apologize, honorable Captain Kirk. It was not our intention to cause you duress. We simply sought to give your companion the opportunity to formulate new memories over those that cause him pain.”

“I understand that,” he didn’t, but he couldn’t afford to ruin the alliance he had only just negotiated, “but I really need you to change him back. He is an essential member of my crew and we cannot operate the Enterprise at peak efficiency without him.”

Sh’uyeri’s antennae dropped low over his face, depressed. “Apologies. We cannot undo our gift.”

Jim swallowed hard, trying and failing to not raise his voice in anger. “What do you mean you ‘can’t’ undo it? You have to!”

“We cannot undo our gift,” the high priest repeated. “However, worry not. Our gift to him is not permanent in it’s nature.”

“Explain.”

“Ah, yes,” Sh’uyeri nodded. “It is a rare talent among our people, a sacred act we bestow upon those we deem deserving. We cannot alter one’s age indefinitely, however, we can select a moment in time. Only brief. A memory, a fragment. The body’s outside appearance changes to match the age the memories occurred. The purpose is to give the chance of new memories. Happier memories. They will then retain these added memories upon returning to their natural age.” Seeing the Captain’s questioning look, the high priest added, “We do this to lessen grief, build stronger bonds among family, friends.”

“Does this affect memories up until the point in time you select?”

“No. This is only to make new memories. Previous memories of the age chosen cannot be touched. Older memories, the adult memories, are often lacking during this time though. Not gone, just quiet. Buried deep in the mind.”

“I see…” Jim nibbled on the inside of his lip. That left him with even more questions as to why the child version of the doctor thought the Enterprise was a naval ship when navy ships had been out of use for over a century. One question stood ought above the rest. “So…how long can we expect this….gift of yours to last?”

“The effects will reverse in one moon,” said Sh’uyeri, antennae perking up slightly.

“One moon?”

Spock leaned over to speak in Jim’s ear. “I believe in Federation time, that would equate to approximately twenty-seven days.”

Jim resisted the urge to curse loudly. “Ma’ja’hiri Sh’uyeri,” he addressed the high priest, managing to retain a relatively calm disposition. “While I understand that you meant well, our people were most alarmed by this incident. It is not every day we see a person turned into a child. Please be aware to inform all involved parties should you decide to offer this generous ‘gift,’ he put emphasis on the word, “of yours again in the future to an outsider. It’ll….help to avoid any misunderstandings.”

And a potential diplomatic crisis.

“We know now and will proceed with caution, honorable Captain Kirk,” Sh’uyeri appeared to perk up a little. “Again, our apologies. We did not mean to cause such a disturbance among your people.

“Apology accepted.” Not really, but if the change was only temporary, he would have to give it a pass. The Admiralty had insisted on this alliance going through as smoothly as possible. Jim paused, remembering that his first officer had mentioned genetic anomalies in his friend. “Before you go, Ma’ja’hiri Sh’uyeri, I would like to know one thing.”

“If I can answer, I will, honorable Captain Kirk.”

“Does this ability of yours affect one’s DNA at all? Like how they look or their blood work?”

“Ah, no,” Sh’uyeri appeared confused. “Other than the appearance of age, we cannot change such a thing. Genetics are firm. Permanent. This is true as well if the adult self has an ailment or injury; it will still exist.”

“I see…” How peculiar. “Thank you for the explanation.”

“Of course, honorable Captain Kirk. Be well and safe travels to you.”

“Yes. Thank you.” Jim disconnected the feed and let himself slouch in his seat, leaning his face heavily against the hand that was propped up on the armrest. His free hand rested over one leg, a finger tapping an angry rhythm into his knee.

“Captain?”

There was a long pause, the bridge eerily quiet for a moment.

“Almost a month,” Jim said flatly, finally breaking the silence. “My CMO is stuck as a kid for almost a whole fucking month.”

Spock was silent for a moment. “If I may use a term you might be familiar with-?”

“What’s that?”

“It ‘could be worse.’”

Jim scowled.

A female voice crackled over the ship’s intercom system. “Captain, we have a situation here in sickbay.”

Straightening up in an instant, Jim responded. “What is it, Nurse Chapel?”

“Doctor McCoy...Leonard...we’ve lost him,” She sounded breathless. “I turned away for only a moment to help Doctor M’Benga with his analysis and he was just gone.”

“Did you attempt to use the ship’s computer system to locate him?” Spock inquired. “It still recognized Doctor McCoy as an established crewmember.”

“I...no, I didn't. Apologies, sirs.”

“It’s fine, Nurse Chapel,” Jim interjected. “He’s probably hiding somewhere. I think it’s best if the Commander and I find him ourselves since he’s already familiar with us. We don’t want to scare him any more than he already is.”

“Very well, Captain. Nurse Chapel out.”

Jim stood up, gesturing at Spock to join him. “Mr. Sulu, you have the conn.”

The helmsman got up at the command, but remained by his seat. “If I may speak freely, sir?”

Jim paused. “You may.”

“So, it’s true then? Doctor McCoy has really become a child?”

The Captain turned to face them all. “Yes. It’s true.” There was a series of hushed gasps and utterances of shock. “After a small disturbance on Telaris yesterday, the Telarians offered to give Doctor McCoy a gift. At some point overnight, he physically de-aged to around ten years old. He doesn’t seem to remember us or his time on the Enterprise,” he cautioned them, “and since we apparently have no choice but to wait out the time until he returns to normal, please be patient and continue to treat him with the same respect you would any of your fellow crewmen.”

“I vish to help find him!” Chevoc suddenly blurted out.

“No, Mr. Chekov. I need you all to stay on the bridge,” Jim said firmly. “You’ll all have the opportunity to see him later, but for now, since he’s already familiar with me and the Commander, it’s best we do this alone.”

“Understood, Captain,” Sulu said, and there was a chorused murmur of similar agreements.

“As you were then,” Jim said softly. “Computer, please locate Doctor McCoy.”

“Doctor McCoy is currently on deck twelve, in corridor three.”

Still on the same floor they’d left him then. He and Spock headed back down towards the medbay floor.

Unfortunately for them, the child self of Bones was apparently not one to linger too long in a single place and had already moved on from the area. Running into an ensign in the hallway, she pointed them down a different section, but there was no child to be found. The two ended up splitting up in order to cover more ground, asking various crew members they encountered and the computer for the boy’s continually changing location.

Still no child. They continued pestering the ship’s computer for directions.

At some point, Bones found a maintenance access point and was now moving between floors in the Jefferies tubes.

“Dammit!” Jim growled, sounding a lot like his friend to his own ears. Easy access his ass. The horizontal tunnels in particular weren’t designed for large people. The kid was probably not having much trouble, but Jim’s height made him have to crawl through practically on his knees. It was starting to make him feel his age. He’d rather not have to resort to calling in security if he could avoid it. The kid was scared enough as it was without sending armed crewmen his way, but if he had to climb through yet another service tunnel…

His communicator chirped and Jim picked it up with a huff. “Yes?”

It was Spock. “I have located him, Captain.”

“Oh thank God,” breathed Jim. “Where?”

“Deck nine, approximately two point three meters down in Jefferies tube fifteen. I shall attempt to lead him out.”

“On my way.”

Down in the Jefferies tube in question, Spock kept a stern eye on the boy that had eluded them for forty-five minutes. There was no doubt the child would have kept moving about the ship, had he had the energy to do so. Instead, the boy was currently sitting with his legs pulled up to his chest, his face red and eyes half-lidded. Tear tracks once again ran down his cheeks, signaling that he’d been crying again.

“Why did you leave the medical bay?” he inquired.

“The people smelled weird,” the boy replied, causing Spock to furrow his brow a little. “And I wanted to look for Sam.”

“They are medical personnel. The scent of disinfectant may be strong, but you will have to learn to endure it.” Spock informed him. “Now, who is this Sam you are searching for?”

The boy scrunched up his nose. “It wasn’t…” he shook his head. “Sam. Samantha. She’s my sister.”

“I was unaware you had a sister.”

The boy gave him an odd look. “Why would you know anything about me? We’ve never met before.”

Spock opened his mouth to reply, then reminded himself that this was just a small child he was speaking with, not the Doctor McCoy he knew. “I shall assist you in locating your sister. Follow me, please.”

“Okay.”

The boy obediently crawled through the tunnel behind him and they emerged out onto deck nine. Jim was already waiting there, an immense look of relief on his face. He moved forward as if he wanted to grab the boy up into a hug, then stopped himself. “Why did you run away?”

“I was looking for Sam,” the boy reiterated.

“Sam?” Jim asked.

“His sister,” Spock clarified.

Jim blinked. “Uh...okay.” Bones has a sister? It was the first time he was hearing about it. “Where does your sister live exactly?” He doubted she was still at the location given, but it would help give them a lead.

The boy rattled off a street address in California. The name of the town was unfamiliar to Jim.

What caught his attention most was the fact it wasn’t Georgia. Jim had thought the doctor was born and raised in the southern state. Then again, if that were entirely true, at the age of ten he should have picked the accent already, yet he’d already noted that the southern twang was completely absent. Had he perhaps grown up elsewhere before eventually moving back to his home state? That was a possibility. It could also be that the de-aging process Sh’uyeri had explained had an effect on accents. He still was trying to wrap his head around that whole process.

“We live with our Aunt Clara and Uncle Richard,” the boy continued. “Last name is Benson.”

“Lieutenant,” Spock called out to a young officer that was about to pass by them, tapping away on the electronic device in her hand. “If I may procure your PADD for a moment.”

“Of course, Commander.” She handed it over, and Spock quickly pulled up the Federation’s database and began inputting the information the boy had provided. As the first officer searched, she cast a strange look at the child before a small smile appeared on her lips. “Hello, there.”

Bones sidestepped behind Jim, seemingly shy. “Hello.”

“Captain.” Spock passed the device over to Jim.

Jim’s eyes scanned the screen. The words that glowed back at him made no sense whatsoever.

The town was...gone. Had been for over two hundred years, apparently destroyed in the fallout of a nuclear bomb halfway through World War III. He clenched his jaw tightly. The audible pop it made caused the boy’s head shoot up in alarm.

“Are you okay?”

“Ah, yes.” Jim took a deep breath. “Is there perhaps another name the town goes by?”

“Huh? Not that I know of. Why?”

Jim swiped the screen aside and passing the PADD back to Spock, who in turn returned it to the lieutenant. She gave a respectful nod and hurried away towards whatever her destination had been before. He turned and knelt down, gently taking the boy’s shoulders in his hands. “I’m sorry, Bo-Leonard. Your family seems to have left that address,” the youth stiffened, “but I promise you, we’ll do whatever we can to find them, okay? I promise.”

The boy had a sullen look in his face, but nodded.

Jim’s communicator beeped again, and Bones eyed it with evident fascination. “Kirk here.”

“Captain,” it was Doctor M’Benga again. “Did you find him?”

“Yes, he’s fine.”

“Ah, thank goodness!” He sounded relieved. “Do you mind coming back to sickbay? I’ve found something you really need to see. The Commander might want take a look at this as well.”

Seemed to be the day for him to be run ragged. “On our way,” Jim told him.

Bones wrinkled his nose again. “Do we have to? It stinks there.”

“Stinks?”

“The child has a strong dislike for the medical bay,” Spock replied. “The smell he claims was another reason he left.”

“No worries, kid. I promise we won’t stay long.”

“I’m gonna hold you to that,” the boy said, the reply containing the same snarky tone as his adult self.

The moment they re-entered the medical facility, Bones immediately pursed his lips in distaste, but said nothing. Instead, he silently returned to the biobed he’d been sitting on before and pulled himself back up on it, letting his feet dangle over the side once more.

“Captain.”

Jim saw the assistant CMO waved him over to his desk where he had several screens pulled upon on his monitor. The man appeared extremely intrigued with what was in front of him.

“You said you had something to show us?” Jim asked as they approached.

“I do,” M’Benga confirmed, eyes bright. “I found something rather fascinating when I was looking at Doctor McCoy’s DNA sequence.” The doctor tapped at the screen and pulled up an image. “Everything about it says he’s human, except for one thing,” he tapped again, pulling up another image alongside the first. “This, here.”

“Fascinating indeed,” Spock confirmed, a look of awe coming over his normal neutral features. “This is Doctor McCoy’s genetic sequence?”

“Yes.”

“Most intriguing.”

“Apologies, you two,” Jim said, the images looking the same to him, “but can someone explain this to me? Genetics wasn’t exactly my field of study at the Academy.”

“Captain,” Spock spoke first, “The first profile shows the standard twenty-three chromosome pairs that humans have.” He indicated the end of the second image. “Doctor McCoy’s profile is showing an additional pair.”

“Twenty-four instead of twenty-three?” Jim glanced at M’Benga. “What does that mean?”

“I’m not sure,” the other man admitted. “But there is no record of any known species having an additional set of chromosomes.”

“None at all?”

“No.”

“The presence of a twenty-four chromosome indicates that Doctor McCoy is truly different from any known species,” Spock told him.”

“But his personnel file lists him as human, right?”

“It does,” M’Benga replied. “However, with the amount of security Doctor McCoy has placed over his own records I can’t help but think that this is something he didn’t want anyone finding out about for whatever reason.”

Jim frowned. “Wait, his medical files are secured? Why?”

“No idea,” said M’Benga. “I’ve never seen them, even though I asked about it when I first came aboard the Enterprise. He was adamant about maintaining his privacy, as he put it, and while it’s unusual for the Chief Medical Officer to be in charge of their own medical files, there’s no regulation against it. The only one who manages Doctor McCoy’s medical records is Doctor McCoy. All we have on file is the basic sample required to allow the ship to locate crew members, and comparing that with the sample I took earlier from, I’ve found evidence that the one on file was tampered with.”

“Tampered how?” asked Jim.

“Well, it’s missing the extra chromosome of course. And there’s traces of artificial restructuring of the cellular strands where I found those anomalies. If not for the fact that I’m comparing the two, I never would have noticed anything was off. This was done by someone extremely skilled and with an in-depth knowledge of genetics and hematology.”

“Someone like Doctor McCoy?”

M’Benga gave a nod. “Definitely.”

Jim turned to look at the boy sitting on the biobed, who was being scanned again by another nurse with a medical tricorder. “Just what are you trying to hide, Bones?” The day was beginning to overwhelm Jim with the sheer amount of questions that seemed to surround his CMO and best friend.

Not for the first time in as many hours, Jim sighed, then came to a decision.

“Doctor M’Benga?”

“Yes, sir?”

“Please leave this out of your report for the time being. At least until we know more.”

The dark skinned man turned serious. “Will do, sir.”

Jim moved over to the boy, who was starting to look annoyed.

“Can we go now?” Bones asked him.

“In a moment, Leonard,” the nurse cut in, placing the tricorder near his face.

With a scowl, he pushed it away, jumping off the table and going for the exit. “I’m done”

Despite having moved around between decks for nearly an hour, the boy could still move quite fast. Jim managed to gab a hold of his sleeve just outside the double doors. “Bo-Leonard, wait-”

The child spun around, his face scrunched in distaste. “Stop calling me that!” he snapped at them.

“It is your name,” Spock responded from beside Jim.

He looked miffed. “No, it’s not.”

Spock raised a brow ever so slightly. “What is your name then?”

“John,” the boy said proudly. “John Grimm.”

Jim and Spock spared a questioning look at each other.

The boy spoke first. “That name though. Leonard. I had a cousin with that name. Why did you think I was him? Did that device that lady was waving around tell you I was him?”

“Er...yes?” Jim replied hesitantly. He frowned. “’Had?’”

“Oh. He died shortly after the war started,” the child explained.

War?

The unknown sister, the decimated town, the mention of war…

Something wasn’t right.

“Le...John,” Jim caught himself. “Can you tell me what the date is?”

“Yeah, sure. It’s October 3^rd.”

"What year?"

John frowned, confused. “...2028. Why?”

Spock had to place a hand on Jim’s shoulder before the blonde fell over in shock.

Chapter Text

Jim needed to sit down somewhere. Medbay was out, since Bones...or John...whatever his name was, didn’t like it. Same went for the bridge and cafeteria. Too noisy with too many people. There was Bone’s room further down the deck, but it was a mess.

“My quarters,” he announced. “Now.”

Grabbing the boy’s hand, he marched down the hall towards the lift with the kid in tow and Spock not far behind. Thankfully, the youth seemed to sense something was up and didn’t protest. Jim vaguely wondered why that was, but didn’t feel like adding questions on top of questions.

“Captain, are you-?”

“Not now, Spock,” Jim choked out. “My room first.”

The Vulcan’s brow knitted slightly in worry, but he said nothing further. Instead he directed the lift to take them up to the senior officer’s quarters.

Minutes later, they entered Jim’s room, and the Captain plopped himself down on the edge of his bed, face buried in his hands.

Deep breaths, deep breaths, Jim told himself. Neither child nor first officer spoke as he spent what felt like an eternity calming his racing heart and he was grateful for it. He didn’t understand how this was possible. M’Benga had assured him that this boy was definitely Bones, had even showed him the results, and yet the boy was contradicting everything they’d been told. Who was he though, if not Leonard Horatio McCoy, Chief Medical Officer of the USS Enterprise? The man was missing, and in his place was this boy, this child, who didn’t even share the same name and by all accounts should have died centuries ago.

What is even happening right now?

Slowly, he could feel his thoughts clear up, and he peeked out between his fingers at the boy, who stared back at him curiously.

“You okay?” John asked.

There was a small choke of a laugh as Jim lowered his hands into his lap, eyes sad. “As okay as I’ll ever be in this situation.” He nodded his head over to one corner where there was a small table with two chairs. “Pull up a seat, Spock. You too, kid. I think we need to start from the beginning here.”

Perhaps, if he didn’t think of him as Bones, he could try and make sense of everything.

Turning the chairs around, they both sat down across from the stressed blonde.

“So,” Jim started. “What can you tell me about yourself?”

The boy nibbled on his lower lip. “Um...what do you want to know?”

“Anything and everything you can tell me. Start from the beginning, with your name again and your date of birth.”

“Uh, okay.” The boy rubbed his shoes idly together. “My name is John Grimm. I was born January 20^th, 2018 in Carson City, Nevada. I have a twin sister named Samantha, and we live with our relatives.”

“What about your parents?”

The boy, John, stared at his lap. “They’re...dead,” his voice had become quiet. “Died a month ago.”

Jim could see this was a touchy subject, so he let it go.

“What do you know about space?”

“Not much,” John shrugged, still uneasy. “I spent the last two years on Mars. Our parents were famous forensic researchers.”

“You were on Mars?” Jim asked. In 2028? If Jim remembered his history correctly, that didn’t match up with what he’d been told in school, but he would double-check it later. “Did the place you live at have a name?”

“Olduvai.”

“What can you tell us about Olduvai?”

The boy squirmed in his seat. “I...can I not? Please. I..it hurts. It hurts too much.” He suddenly sniffled.

So Olduvai was related to the death of his parents somehow. Obviously, the memory was too fresh for the boy, so Jim changed his line of questioning. “Do you know where you are right now?”

John relaxed a little at the new topic. “You said this was the USS Enterprise.”

“Yes,” said Jim. “I did. But do you know it? Do you recognize anything?”

“No. Should I?” John tilted his head. “All I know is that it’s an old naval ship I think. I thought it was retired like a year or so before Sam and I were born, but I guess the military decided to use it again for the war.” His eyes roamed the room. “They sure made it pretty high-tech. I haven’t seen even half the stuff you people seem to use.”

So he really didn’t remember anything. This was a problem. “So...with the war…” Given the years the boy was talking about, it could only mean World War III. “Were you...safe? Where you live with your relatives?” It pained him to think of this child, a young Bones, growing up in a war zone and surrounded by death.

“I guess so. The UAC governs the area we live in, they called it a safe zone.”

The safe zones. He had read about them. There had been several set up at the beginning of the war, usually near military bases and generally reserved for families of military officers and other essential personnel. It gave him at least some peace of mind regarding his friend’s childhood. The name was unfamiliar to him though. “UAC?”

John looked confused. “You know, the Union Aerospace Corporation? They’re like the biggest company in the world. They even have ties with the US military. They’re the ones that founded the Ark and built Olduvai.”

Still didn’t sound familiar, but he noted it down in his mind to look into later.

The next question came from Spock. “Is the Ark a…” he paused momentarily, “...portal of some kind?”

“Yep,” John replied. “But not a very good one. Make sure you don’t eat before going through. You’ll get sick after. I heard of some people losing limbs and stuff too.”

That sounded wholly unpleasant. Losing limbs? Jim winced at the thought. It gave him a renewed respect for modern transporters and all their safety measures.

“Okay...so you’ve been to space. Have you ever encountered other species?” Unlikely, considering First Contact was reported as being in 2063, but he needed to know for sure if he were going to try and break the news of the situation to the kid. He suspected they were going to have problems one way or another, but part of him still hoped to at least try to ease the boy into it.

“You mean aliens?” The boy looked at him like he was mad. “Aliens aren’t real.”

Definitely hadn’t then. Jim indicated Spock. “Well, now you’ve met one.”

John shifted sideways, eyeing the first officer incredulously. “What?” He looked back at Jim. “No, he’s not!”

“He has pointy ears.”

“That doesn’t make him an alien!” John protested. “He could have had surgery to make them that way. Some people do stuff like that.”

“Negative,” Spock told the boy. “These are the ears I was born with. I am Vulcan.”

“Vulcan? Is that some kind of tribe or gang?”

“No…” Spock had a mildly quizzical expression on his face. “I am an alien species.”

“Aliens aren’t real,” John said flatly, unbelieving. “Or at least we’ve never encountered any.”

Jim raised a brow. “There are millions of planets in the galaxy,” he informed the boy. “Surely you don’t think humans are the only life that exists out there?”

“Well...no…” John admitted. “But if he’s really an alien, we would’ve heard about it, wouldn’t we?”

“Captain, while I understand your intentions, I believe the only way to prove to the child we are telling the truth is to show him. Regrettably, regardless of how he learns of it, we will have to be prepared to deal with the inevitable emotional breakdown he will have.”

Sometimes, Jim hated his first officer’s logic.

“Emotional breakdown? Why would I have a breakdown?” John’s head swiveled between the two of them, body tensing up again. “Someone tell me what’s going on!”

“Spock-” Jim started, then stopped. The Vulcan was right. No matter how much he thought about approaching the subject, there was no easy way to explain it to the child. With a heavy sigh, he leaned back towards his nightstand and grabbed the PADD that was sitting there and pulling up an image, he passed it over to the boy.

“Aliens do exist,” he said simply. “And the USS Enterprise is no navy ship.”

John grabbed it, eyes growing wider and wider as he scrolled down the screen.

“It is an exploratory spaceship.”

“No,” the boy mumbled, still reading.

“The year is currently 2264,” Spock supplied. “Over two hundred years after your time.”

“No!” The boy shot up to his feet as he yelled. There was an audible crack as the screen of device gripped tightly in his hands began to splinter, and Spock swiftly snatched it away before the boy ended up with glass embedded in his skin. “No! You’re lying!”

“Bone-John…”

The boy backed into the corner, shaking. “The other thing had the same date, but it can’t be... It can’t be!”

“It is,” Spock reaffirmed, standing up carefully, PADD still in hand.

“No! No no no!” John sank down to the floor, grabbing at his hair. “This isn’t right! It’s a lie. It has to be!” The boy was starting to hyperventilate. “If...if it’s right, th-then that would mean Sam’s dead and I...I can’t...I can’t…” Fresh tears welled up in his wide hazel eyes. “Please… no… no! I’ve already l-lost our p-parents. I...I can’t lose her too!”

Jim vacated the bed, kneeling down and gently touching the child’s shoulder. Immediately, John wrapped his arms around him, clinging to him desperately as he cried a flood into the golden shirt. Sobs wracked the small body, and Jim returned the tight embrace.

“W-why?” he mumbled hoarsely into Jim’s shoulder. “Why am I h-here? How?”

“We do not know,” Spock said softly.

And that was the truth.

Fingers brushing at the dark curls, Jim watched his ward with a sense of sadness. The boy was curled up against him, face swollen from having cried himself to sleep. Spock was sitting rather stoically in his chair, tapping away on the damaged PADD, surprising Jim that it was still functional given the cracks he could see spider-webbing across the screen.

Jim took a deep breath, keeping his voice low. “So…now what?”

The Vulcan looked up. “I do not understand what you mean, Captain.”

“This, Spock.” Jim nodded at the boy in his lap. “This entire messed up situation. I mean, let’s see… Bones has, or had, a sister, we know nothing about, that his own name is not Leonard McCoy, and that the year is 2028. Did I get all that?”

“He also is not as human as we originally assumed,” Spock added, lifting up the PADD in his hands. “If we consider also the additional chromosome in his genetic sequence, the amount of strength required to break these in one’s bare hands is more than the average ten year old can possess.”

“Add it to the ever growing list of mysteries.” Jim thumped his head against the wall behind him, staring up at the ceiling. “I...I just don’t get it. Why did he never tell us, Spock? Or at least tell me? I thought...I thought we were best friends. Yet, after everything we’ve been told today… It’s like I never knew him at all.”

“I believe this comes back to the 24^th chromosome he carries,” Spock replied. “There is no known species ever having been documented with an additional pair. The interest such a discovery would create within the scientific community would be...astronomical. I presume that Doctor McCoy wished to not be the center of such attention.”

“Fair enough,” Jim admitted, sitting straighter. He could relate, at least a little bit, since he was often compared to his famous father when growing up and pestered by the media, initially due to his self-sacrificing parent, now because he was the youngest Captain in Starfleet. To be the only known member of a newly discovered species...he winced at the idea. “Still...that doesn’t explain the name difference or the time frame he’s given us.” Jim stilled his hand on the boy’s head. “Assuming he’s telling the truth, and I don’t see why he would lie about it, then there’s only two possibilities I can think of.” He raised a finger. “One: at some point Bones traveled through time,” he held up a second, “or two: he became a human popsicle like Khan and his crew and someone eventually thawed him out.”

“There is a third possibility.”

“What’s that?”

“In light of his unique genetic code, there is the possibility that he does not age as we do.”

Jim blinked, stunned. “Well...shit...I didn’t think about that.”

“It would explain the name,” said Spock. “He would need to change his identity frequently in order to remain undiscovered. Given that Doctor M’Benga found that the blood sample on file in the ship’s computer had been altered to appear as that of an ordinary human, I believe that this is the most logical conclusion.”

“Bones is in hiding.”

“Affirmative.”

There was a low grumble from Jim. “Damn, the Telarians really fucked things up. Half the medical staff already knows about his blood being different, and we can’t just ask him to use a name he doesn’t remember for the next twenty-seven days. I don’t know how we’re going to keep this quiet.”

“Doctor M’Benga and the other medical personnel can be sworn to secrecy,” Spock informed him. “First and foremost, they are bound by the Hippocratic Oath and doctor-patient confidentiality. If they are thus ordered, they will not divulge any information beyond what is strictly necessary to report to Starfleet.”

“What about everyone else? We can’t just keep him locked up for a month until he returns to normal!” Jim hissed irritably.

“True, though I feel he would not remain confined to his quarters even if we were to direct him to do so.” Spock pondered for a moment. “I strongly recommend we keep him limited in his interactions with the majority of the crew. However, may I suggest involving Lieutenants Uhura and Sulu as well as Ensign Chekov? They all have a connection to the doctor and I do not believe they would do anything that would cause him harm. I also would prefer not to lie to Lieutenant Uhura, and as we share a bond, and it would be difficult to keep the information from her either way.”

Jim thought about it, then gave a nod. “I suppose it’s the best idea we’ve got. Sh’uyeri did mention that this...thing...was used to build stronger bonds among friends and family.” He paused, bright blue eyes settling on the youth. “...And Bones once told me that this crew was his family.” Jim rested his hand gently on the boy’s back. “So...let us be his family.”

“Agreed.” Spock set the device down in his lap. “I shall speak with the medical staff regarding the matter and look further into the information we have been provided by the child. While many records were lost during your planet’s last world war, I will do my best to locate whatever I can and report my findings to you later.” He lifted a single brow marginally. “Given the time, I strongly recommend you wake...John…” he seemed uncertain speaking the name, “and find him some sustenance. I do not believe he was eaten anything since last night.”

Damn. Jim hadn’t even considered that. He and the rest of the Alpha shift crew had undoubtedly all eaten breakfast before reporting in, but Bones, in his regression, had obviously not gone to the cafeteria and probably had no clue on where to even begin in using the small replicator in his room. What was it? Lunch time? A cursory look at the chrono by his bed told him it was shortly after three.

“Will you be able to handle the situation from here, Captain?” Spock asked.

“I-yeah. Yeah.” He nodded. “I got it. I don’t think he’ll be running off anymore. At least, I hope not.” Heaven forbid if he even had to glimpse at the inside of another Jefferies tube for the next year. His knees were still aching.

The Vulcan stood up, PADD in hand. “I do not believe so either, Captain, but should he do so, please inform me immediately and I shall assist in locating him again.” He glanced down at the item, as if pondering whether or not to leave it.

“I’ll get a new one, Spock.” Jim waved dismissively.

“Very well, Captain.” Spock inclined his head respectfully. “I shall contact you later once I know more on the matter.”

“Thanks.” The Vulcan exited the room, leaving Jim still on the floor and holding the slumbering youth. He didn’t want to disturb the child, his face, while still red, was finally relaxed, his breathing calm, but needs were a must. He gave a gentle shake. “Hey.”

The boy’s lips pursed in discomfort.

“Wake up, kiddo.”

A dry eyelid peeled back, then the other, blinking up at him. John stiffened suddenly, then relaxed again as he remembered where he was. “Oh,” was his only response.

“Are you…?” Jim started to ask, then stopped. Was he what exactly? Good? Okay? Certainly not. He was billions of miles from home and hundreds of years apart. For the boy, it was far from ideal.

The unspoken question did not escape John however. He sat up, keeping one hand tightly wrapped in the golden command shirt and wiping the dried tears from his eyes with the other. “I’m okay, I guess. Just...sad.”

That made sense, Jim supposed. “Come one, let’s get you up.” He gently gave the boy a push upward before standing up himself, feeling the tension in his back pop as he did so. John was still holding onto him, nibbling his lower lip again. It was something Jim noted that he seemed to do when he was nervous. Jim had to ask. “So...are you going to run away again?”

John’s ears turned pink in embarrassment and he cast his gaze downward. “No.”

“Okay, good, because I’m absolutely terrible at hide and seek.”

A small smile graced the boy’s lips momentarily, if a bit strained. He looked up, meeting the blonde’s eyes. “Sorry about that. Honest. I just...I wanted…”

“To find your sister, yeah.” A knot twisted in Jim’s chest. “I’m sorry, kid. Really, I am.”

“It’s okay.” Depression settled over John’s face. “Are you...going to find a way to send me home?”

“I…” He should have expected the question, but was unprepared for it. “Yeah, my first officer is working on it right now. We’ll do whatever we can to make this right, B...John.” And they would, though not in the way the boy was thinking.

The boy seemed to believe him, uttering another ‘okay,’ but stared back down at his feet.

He needed to distract him. “Anyway, how about we get something to eat, yeah?”

“M’not hungry,” came the quiet response.

“You haven’t eaten all day,” Jim replied. “You’ve got to be hungry.”

“No.” John grimaced when his stomach took that moment to gurgle in protest.

Jim smirked. “I’d say you are. What do you want to eat?”

John’s head shot up, his eyes widened marginally. “You mean I have options?”

“Well...yes. You do. Anything you want, just about.”

“Really?” John gaped at him. “You mean to tell me you don’t have those nasty dehydrated space rations in the future?”

What a thing to feed to a growing kid, Jim thought. “Nope.” He walked over to the corner of the room to stand in front of a large slotted device in the wall. “This is a food synthesizer. You just tell it what you want and it’ll make it for you.”

“How?”

Jim ended up going into a rather in depth explanation of how food synthesizers and food tapes worked for nearly a half hour, John hooked on his every word.

Eventually, he managed to direct them out of the conversation and had gotten the boy to sit down and eat a meal of Jim’s choosing, since John couldn’t figure out what he wanted to try. Apparently between living on Mars and the breakout of the war, the boy hadn’t really been able to enjoy a wide variety of foods. It seemed that his parents had also not been much for eating out either prior to that or they had been living a healthy lifestyle since John had seemed rather confused about certain popular foods. Jim settled on replicating him a burger with fries and a chicken sandwich for himself.

The boy had definitely been hungry. Jim had watched with almost a sense of fascination as John had scarfed down the meal, only interjecting at one point for him to slow down lest he choke on it. Now he was merely studying the boy who was apparently his best friend, sipping at the remainder of his coffee that he’d also had made. It was much needed after the chaotic day he’d had thus far.

“So good,” mumbled John as he swallowed the last bite of patty, chasing it down with the rest of his drink, an apple juice. He wiped his lips on his sleeve. “I still can’t believe all this came out of that machine.”

“Ah, yes,” Jim agreed. “The miracles of today’s science and engineering.” He set down his now empty cup. “Would you like to see more of the ship?”

John gave him an apprehensive look. “I dunno… There’s...a lot of people.”

“Do people scare you?”

Worry was replaced with resolve. “I’m not scared!” he denied. “It’s just...loud. And everything smells weird.”

Again with the smells. Did the boy have a particularly keen nose? “Well, you can’t stay here forever.” He stood up, holding his hand out. “Come on. I’ll be right beside you.”

After a moment’s hesitation, John took his hand, holding on as though he were afraid he’d lose the adult, and Jim winced at the boy’s unnaturally tight grip. There was a series of small pops as the joints shifted under the pressure and Jim couldn’t help the slight gasp of pain that escaped him.

Startled, John immediately released. “I’m sorry!” He stepped back. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to!”

“No, no!” Jim grabbed the boy’s shoulder before he backpedaled into the chair he’d just vacated. “I’m fine! See?” He wiggled his hand, which was slightly red, but otherwise intact. “No harm done.”

John looked, then stared at his own hands, thoroughly confused. “I don’t….I don’t understand.”

“It’s okay. We’ll figure this out together.” Grabbing the boy’s hand again, Jim have it a gentle squeeze. “Just...let me do the holding, all right?”

“’Kay.”

Jim was relieved when the child’s hand remained relatively lax in his own. Remembering the damage to his PADD, he would have to bear in mind that the boy had an undeniable strength that he wasn’t aware he had. It was obviously something Bones had learned to control over time for him to be able to do the fine detailed work that he did as a doctor. Giving John a reassuring smile, he guided the child out of his quarters.

He showed him the deck they were on first. It wasn’t the most interesting place, blending in with many of the other floors in it’s simple design, but since many of the officers were currently on shift, preparing to work, or sleeping, it was relatively empty. This fact seemed to suit John just fine. Jim spent the time explaining the general layout of the ship and the Enterprise’s primary purpose of exploration and forming relations with new species.

As they walked along, he indicated Spock’s quarters, in case the boy needed to find the Vulcan later for help with anything, then led him down towards the end to a few spare rooms and assigned him one. While he could’ve returned the boy to the CMO’s quarters near medbay, Jim felt better if he were close by without multiple decks between them. John didn’t seem too thrilled about the room either way, his eyes continually going back down the corridor where they’d come from as if measuring the distance back to the Captain’s quarters, but he said nothing, only giving a nod when Jim gave him his access code.

That out of the way, Jim decided to try and lead the boy to somewhere a bit more populated. Estimating the time, he figure it was close to the end of Alpha shift, if not over with altogether, and he knew that his senior bridge crew was going to seek them out. The small recreation room on Deck 3 was a good place. It was nowhere near as busy as the mess hall at this hour, particularly since the smaller lounges lacked food synthesizers, but with it’s large windows, it would give the youth a chance to view the stars.

Or panic at the sight of them, as it so happened.

Upon entering the room, John had suddenly pulled his hand out of Jim’s grasp, stumbling back into a wall with an audible thud. His eyes were large and round as he stared out at the stars passing by.

“This...this can’t be real. Space travel isn’t a thing. Not really.”

“I did tell you this was a spaceship,” Jim gently reminded him, holding up a hand to stave off the two crewmen in the room with them, who had noticed the boy’s distress and had begun to move to check on him.

“Yes, but...to see it. It...it’s really real? Everything?”

“It is.”

The depressed expression was back again, and Jim quickly grabbed the child by the shoulders and steered him towards one of the lounge seats before he was down on the floor again. “Hey now,” he tried, sitting next to him. “Talk to me.”

John sat silently for several minutes before slowly raising his eyes to meet Jim’s baby blues. “Just...I guess I didn’t want to believe it,” he admitted. “Seeing...this…” He glanced back out the large window. “...I wish Sam was here. Maybe then I wouldn’t feel so alone.”

Jim bit his tongue, unsure of what to say that would make the child feel better. Whether it was because they were twins, or the fact they had lost their parents recently (at least in John’s memories), perhaps both, John was obviously very close with his sibling.

“I know I’m not her,” he finally said, “but you’re not alone. I’m here for you.”

“What about Mr...Spock?”

“Yeah, Spock is too,” Jim acknowledged. “His people don’t show their feelings like you or I do, but I know he’ll support you however he can. There are others too, if you’re open to meeting them.”

“Why?” was John’s simple question. “Why do you care?”

“Because you’re a child who’s been through a lot recently and you’re dealing with things that no one should have to deal with.” Wrapping an arm around the boy, he pulled him close. “Let us be here for you. Let us help you get through this.”

“But…” The boy shook his head against Jim’s side. “I don’t want to bother anyone.”

“You’re not bothering me, kid. Honest. And I know the rest of my crew will agree. You’re not a bother at all.”

There was a shuffling noise and Jim glanced up as the door slid open. The curly blonde hair of the Russian navigator poked around the corner. Chekov’s lips first formed a round ‘o’ at the sight of the boy in his Captain’s arms, then he grinned. “Ah!” He turned back, shouting over his shoulder. “I haz found them!”

“Over here?” Sulu walked in, then stopped in his tracks. “...You really weren’t kidding. Is that-?”

Jim held a finger to his lips to shush the other man. “Yeah.”

The child straightened up, scrutinizing the audience gathering before them. “Um...hello.”

Uhura came around the helmsman, surprise spreading over her features. “Oh!” She tentatively approached, glancing at Jim. She chose her next words carefully. “...Any recollection?”

He gave her a sad smile. “None.”

Her dark eyes softened, and she bent down to the child’s eye level. “Hi, sweetie. My name is Nyota.” She held out her hand.

The boy eyed it momentarily, then took it in a handshake. “Hi, Nyota. I’m John.”

She blinked, glancing at Jim questionably, and he mouthed back ‘I’ll explain later.’ Tipping her head slightly, she returned her attention to the boy. “It’s nice to meet you, John. The Captain here isn’t giving you a hard time, is he?”

“What?” His head spun between the two. “No! He’s been really nice to me!”

She smiled.

“John? Dat’s a wery nice name!” Chekov came up beside the communications officer. “My name iz Pavel. It iz a pleazure to meet you, John!”

“And my name is Hikaru,” Sulu said from the opposite side, confusion evident on his face. ‘John?’ he mouthed at Jim.

‘Later,’ Jim silently bit back.

“Nice to meet you, Pavel, Hikaru.” John tilted his head. “Uh...the...Captain said that his crew would help me.”

“It’s Jim, John,” Jim corrected. “I’m only Captain on duty and only for them, not you.” Thinking about it, he’d really only ever had been Jim to Bones.

Chekov was nodding enthusiastically. “Of course ve vill help you. It haz been a scary day for you, da?”

“Yes,” admitted John. “You all seem nice, but it’s been pretty...uh...overwhelming.”

“Hmm…” Chekov pressed a finger against his lips. “Ah! I know. I know vat vill help!” He sprang towards the door, then paused. “Meet me in ze mess hall! I shall bring games!”

“Games?” Sulu asked, but the energetic navigator was already gone.

“It’s not a bad idea. It has been a crazy day and we could all do with some relaxation.” Uhura held out her hand. “Are you interested, John?”

“I guess.” He looked down at his hand, then carefully reached out and wrapped it around hers. Smiling warmly, she walked with him out of the room towards the lift.

Jim stood up, following close behind, and Sulu fell into step beside him. “What’s going on, Captain?”

Sighing, Jim cast an exhausted glace his way. “A lot, Mr. Sulu. A whole fucking lot.” He didn’t divulge any more than that.

The mess hall was almost too busy, causing John to go back to being shifty on his feet. Uhura noticed his unease, and she knelt down, speaking so softly Jim couldn’t hear. The boy said something back, and she gave a curt nod, leading him to the far side, away from the majority of the boisterous crew. “Is this better?” she asked, as they took a seat at the table, with John taking the furthest chair in the corner, Uhura across from him, and Jim taking the one next to the boy.

“Yeah, thanks, Nyota.”

“Of course.”

Sulu stood beside the table, seemingly thinking about something.

“Sulu? You okay there?” Jim asked.

“Ah, yes, sir,” the helmsman shook himself out of his thoughts. “Uh, have either of you eaten yet?” he asked.

Glancing at the chrono high up on the wall, Jim nodded. “About two hours ago.” He turned his head towards the boy. “Do you want anything? A snack? A drink?”

“Umm...can I have icecream?”

“Sure.” Sulu fixated his gaze on the boy. “What flavor would you like?”

John frowned. “I don’t know. I’ve never had it before so...what flavors are there?”

“Never?”

“No,” John said. “My mother didn’t like dairy so we never really had it around.”

“Huh.” A light bulb seemed to go off. “I’ll be right back!” Sulu made his way across the cafeteria towards the replicators and poking in a code. The desired item materialized in the slot and he grabbed it.

“Oh my word,” Uhura groaned. Jim covered his mouth with one hand, stifling a laugh.

John’s eyes became as large as saucers when the helmsman returned, sliding the dish and a spoon across the table in front of him. “One Neapolitan banana split topped with hot fudge sauce and whipped cream.”

“I...don’t think I can eat all of this,” John stated.

Sulu grinned. “If Demora can eat all of it, so can you.”

“Demora?”

“My daughter,” explained Sulu. “She’s a few years younger than you.”

Not to be outdone by someone younger than him, John determinedly jabbed his utensil into the desert, seemingly putting the stressful day out of his mind, at least for the moment. Chomping down on a large bite, he shuddered. “So….so cold!”

Sulu laughed. “Don’t eat it like that! Savor it.”

John slowed, licking at the spoon.

“Ai!” came Chekov's voice. “That iz a lot of ice-cream!” The navigator slipped into the chair beside Uhura and made a small tsking sound. “Too much, Hikaru!”

“Aww, come on, he’s enjoying it! Besides, he doesn’t really have to eat it all if he doesn’t want to.” Sulu dropped down beside his friend. “So, what are we doing?”

Chekov grinned, holding out a silver box. “Zis!”

“You want to teach a ten-year old Poker?” Jim asked dubiously.

“Da!” replied the young crew member. “Why not? I learned by ze time I vas five!”

“I want to learn how to play,” John said around a mouthful of ice-cream.

Rubbing his brow in exasperation, Jim gave a minute wave of his hand. “All right, fine. Let’s all be a bad influence on the kid.”

“I’m in,” said Uhura with a mischievous smirk.

Jim wanted to bury his face in his hands, but refrained. He waved at the navigator. “Fine. Deal me in.”

Chapter Text

“I fold,” said Uhura.

“I’m all in.” John shoved his chips towards the center of the table.

Jim lifted a brow, trying to gauge the youth. “You’re bluffing.”

“Am I?” John asked him, an innocent expression on his face.

“Hmm…” Jim glanced at his cards. “Fine.” He shoved his small pile of chips towards the pot. “I call.”

Sulu stared at the boy, then peeked back at his cards. “Ugh, I fold.” He dropped them down on the table.

Chekov fidgeted in his seat, then sighed, dropping his own few remaining chips into the pile. “I call az well.”

They looked expectantly at John, and he set his cards down, four jacks and an ace. “Four of a kind.”

“Damn.” Jim set down his own full house.

“Ah, ë-моё! You haz won again! How do you do zis?” Chekov had a mix of unrelated cards.

“Most impressive.” Spock was standing a few feet away where he had been quietly observing the game.

“Da!” agreed the young navigator. “Zeh doc-John…” he correctly hastily, “-iz wery, wery lucky!”

Spock tilted his head. “Having observed for the past fifteen point eight minutes, I will have to disagree with that statement, Mr. Chekov. It is not luck that is contributing to his wins. Rather, I believe he is counting the cards.”

They all turned to stare at the boy. John blinked, cheeks turning pink at being the center of attention. “What? Is math not a part of this game?”

“You can do zat?” Chekov gaped. “At ten? You are a genius!”

John’s blush deepened. “Er, really? I...it didn’t seem that hard to do. I just kept track of the cards that were shown and figured the odds of what everyone might have.”

“No wonder we lost all our chips,” groaned Sulu, but a smile quirked up the corners of his mouth. “Are you sure you haven’t played this before?” John shook his head and Sulu emitted a soft snort. “At least we weren’t playing for actual credits.” Grabbing his drink, left over still from dinner, he downed the last of it before craning his neck to try and look at the cafeteria’s clock. “What time is it even?”

“It is twenty hundred forty-nine, Lieutenant,” Spock informed him. Seeing John try to stifle a yawn, he added, “I suggest we escort the child to his quarters and discuss the proceedings of today.” He settled his gaze on Jim. “Unless of course the Captain has already spoken with you all?”

“I haven’t, Spock.” He wasn’t looking forward to that conversation either. Jim looked at John. “Come on, kiddo. Let’s get you to bed.”

John pouted. “Awww…do I have to?”

“You can play again tomorrow if you’d like,” Jim assured him.

Reluctantly, the boy stood up and said goodnight to the crew. Chekov ruffled John’s dark hair, much to the child’s dismay, but he promptly gave the navigator a quick hug in return.

“I’ll see you all in the briefing room in fifteen,” Jim told them. John waved one last time, and Jim escorted him back to his newly assigned room. He allowed John to input the code he’d given him, and followed him in. Plopping himself onto the edge of the bed, John watched as the man looked around the room.

“Damn,” Jim muttered. “I forgot to see about getting you some pajamas.” He poked his head into the bathroom. “Oh! Good. Okay,” he turned back. “Toothbrush and stuff are all in here. Don’t forget to do that.” He pointed at a panel off to the side with a small latch. “Towels are in this cabinet if you want to take a shower. The settings are pretty easy to use. Just push the dial in and turn right for cold and left for hot.” He stood awkwardly in front of the boy. “Uh...I’ll see about getting you a change of clothes in the morning. Is...there anything else you might want? Do you like books?” Offhandedly, he made a mental note about locating a replacement PADD in the morning for the kid to use. Perhaps add a few games of whatever was currently popular among children. “What about video games?”

Despite having grown up in a war, he was sure there had to have been something Bones’ child self had enjoyed doing just for fun, even if he was apparently smarter than the average ten-year-old. Poker was...well...not the ideal game of choice for a kid, even if John had enjoyed it. He’d have to try a few different things out. He was bound to find something suitable eventually.

“I’m okay,” John replied. “Umm...thank you.”

Jim hesitated, not really wanting to leave him alone, but he still needed to get things done, and unlike adults, children needed ample amount of sleep. Last thing he wanted was a sick child all because John hadn’t gotten adequate care. Not that he remembered Bones ever getting sick, even when his own staff seemed to contract various ailments, a risk from working in close contact with the ill and such. Yet, children were decidedly more fragile than adults. “Are you going to be all right on your own here?”

The boy frowned at the question. “I’m not going to run away again,” came the reply, slightly bitter in it’s tone. “We’re in space. Where would I even go?”

“That’s not…” Jim sighed. He hadn’t meant to imply anything. Knowing that the boy wouldn’t make another attempt to flee helped put his mind at ease though. “I just want to make sure you’re comfortable staying here by yourself,” he clarified. “You remember where mine and Mr. Spock’s rooms are, correct?” John nodded. “We still have to work a bit, but it shouldn’t be too long before we’re done. If you need anything, you come and find one of us, got it?”

“Got it.”

“Good.” Jim paused at the doorway. “When you’re ready to sleep, just loudly say ‘lights’ and whatever percentage to change the brightness or on and off. I’ll be back in the morning around 0800...I mean, 8am.” His eyes lingered on John, who merely looked back at him with an unreadable expression.

Damn, he really hated leaving the boy, but needs were a must. “Well...good night then.”

“Night.”

With a sense of reluctance, Jim departed, popping into his quarters only to grab his PADD before heading towards the turbolift.

He was not looking forward to this conversation.

The room felt oddly cramped despite it’s relative spaciousness, with none of the crew electing to take a seat. Instead they chose to crowd in front of their captain, who sat at the helm of the table, his chair turned to face them. The sense of claustrophobia was further exacerbated by everyone bombarding him at once with their questions. Jim pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling another headache coming on.

“I just saw the Doctor last night!” Someone, Chekov most likely, had gone and nabbed Montgomery Scott, who was quite agitated. “He was looking a tad weary, but nothin’ serious. What’s this about the Telarians turning him into a wee lad now?”

“If everyone would please-” Jim tried to cut in.

“I’d like to know why he wants to be called John,” interjected Sulu. Uhura nodded from beside him.

“John?” the engineer asked. “What do ya mean ‘John’? I thought his name was Leonard!”

“That iz how he introduced himself,” Chekov replied with a shrug. “Though I too am curious.”

“If you would all give the Captain a moment,” Spock’s voice rose above the rest from where he stood off to the side, observing the others, “he will explain the situation to you.”

That helped settle them down. “Thank you, Commander.” Jim raised his head to study his crew as they lined up before him, shifty in their anxiety, but attentive. “Yes, Doctor McCoy was turned into a child by the Telarians,” he explained to Scotty. “A ‘gift’ they called it. Thankfully, it’s not permanent, but he’ll remain like this for about a month.”

“Wha- a month?” the Scotsman exclaimed.

“Scotty,” Jim glowered at him, and the other man quieted. The captain let out a deep breath, face grim. “Now, what I’m about to tell you all is not to leave this room. I’m only telling you this because Commander Spock and I believe you can be trusted. If you feel you cannot keep this secret, leave now, but be aware that you will also not be permitted to be around Doctor McCoy for his own safety. Do you understand?”

No one moved.

“Sir…” Uhura softly spoke. “Is he...okay?”

“Yes...and no.” Jim was honest. “But it’s not a matter of him being sick like you may be thinking.” He looked between each crew member. “You all good then?”

“Yes, sir,” came the unanimous reply.

“Very well.” Jim linked his fingers together in his lap. With a deep breath, he told them everything he and Spock had learned, from the medical discrepancies to the boy’s own revelations of his name and birth date, his sister, and even his lost parents. When he finished, the room was still, each one processing the news over in their minds.

The Vulcan broke the silence first. “Captain, if I may?”

Jim gave a small wave of his hand for the other to go ahead.

“As of right now,” Spock addressed the others, “I do not know the specifics regarding Doctor McCoy’s true identity other than what the Captain has already stated. However, I can assure you all that, given the Doctor’s exemplary record serving in Starfleet, it is highly unlikely that he is here to cause harm to this ship or any of it’s crew.”

“I...don’t believe any of us even considered that to be the case,” responded Sulu. “It’s...confusing, learning all of this about him, but…I never took Doctor McCoy as someone who would intentionally hurt others. He doesn’t seem like that type of person to me.” Beside him, Chekov was nodding in agreement.

“Aye,” Scotty piped in. “We’ve trusted him all these years to patch us up, and he has always come through. The Doctor may be grumpy at the best of times, but he’s not one for hurtin’ anyone.”

“What about the rest of the crew, sir?” asked Uhura. “I understand you wish to keep this quiet, but what if someone else finds out-?” She trailed off.

“That’s precisely why I’m telling you to keep this among yourselves,” Jim said sternly. “The Commander has already seen to the sickbay staff I believe,” Spock nodded. “and I would like the rest of you to help us keep him away from the rest of the crew as much as possible. As per Starfleet regulations, seeing as Doctor McCoy is one of the senior officers, everyone will be informed of the incident with the Telarians and about his age regression, but nothing else. Since he doesn’t like to be around a lot of people as well as his memory loss, we’ll direct them to stay away from him since it’ll only scare him. That should be enough to limit most contact. Outside of this room, no one knows him as anything other than Leonard McCoy, and I want it to remain that way. If someone does overhear him or one of you using the name John, explain that it is his middle name and he preferred it at this age over Leonard. Am I clear?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Captain?” Jim turned his attention to the Vulcan. “Doctor M’Benga has transferred access to the sample taken this morning over to me, as well as all subsequent data obtained from it,” Spock informed him. “I have also informed him of his temporary position as the ship’s Chief Medical Officer until Doctor McCoy is deemed ready to return to duty.”

“Thank you, Mr. Spock,” Jim tipped his head.

The room was quiet for a moment, then Chekov lifted his hand. “Ah, Keptin?”

“Yes, Mr. Chekov?”

The young man fidgeted. “Does zis mean we are to take turns watching him?”

Jim gave it a thought. “I was planning on turning over command to Mr. Spock for the time being, since John seems to be comfortable around me, but if any of you are able to rearrange your schedule around with your fellow crewmen, then sure. I would appreciate the help. I admit…” he grimaced slightly. “I don’t really know the first thing about taking care of a kid.” At least, not in the traditional sense.

Tarsus IV was not a good example.

The navigator smiled, happy to have the opportunity to spend more time with the boy. Jim supposed it to be expected, given the young man’s own playful nature.

“I already told him I was meeting him at 0800 tomorrow,” Jim informed them, “but feel free to discuss it among yourselves and I can trade off with someone by noon.”

“Will do, Keptin!”

“Aye, sir.”

“Dismissed.”

Save for Spock, they all shuffled out of the briefing room, and Jim leaned back in his chair, rubbing at his brow. “They certainly handled that better than I expected.”

“I had no doubt that they would, Captain,” the Vulcan remarked. “The doctor has been dedicated to maintaining the operations of this vessel and has never failed in the performance of his duties. Though he is an illogical human in many ways, frequently prone to acting upon his emotions, he has left a positive impression upon the crew over the years.” There was a slight pause. “Even I have come to respect the doctor and even welcome his opinion.”

“You, Spock?” Jim’s brows raised. “I’ll be sure to let Bones know you think so highly of him.”

“He is already aware, Captain, as I myself informed him of this when we were stranded on the planet Altamid.”

Jim’s eyebrows raised further, then he huffed in amusement, giving a shake of his head. “The interactions between you two never ceases to amaze me.”

“Captain?”

A smile was his only response. “Unless there’s something else, Commander, I really must get this report written up for Starfleet as well as prepare the ship wide notification regarding Doctor McCoy’s status.”

“Of course. Have a good night, Captain.”

“You too, Spock.”

Alone now, Jim reclined in his chair, feeling a sense of both relief and pride for his fellow crewmen and friends and their desire to help care for the mystery child that was the Enterprise’s Chief Medical Officer. His thoughts turning solely to the boy, he quickly checked with the computer to ensure that John was still in the room he’d been assigned. The system uttered an affirmative. Satisfied, Jim grabbed his PADD and began a new log.

He awoke to the sound of someone knocking on his door.

Looking at the clock by his bed, Jim groaned. He’d gotten back to his room close to eleven, thoroughly spent after the day's events and had collapsed as soon as he’d changed into his sleep clothes. It had better be important, whoever decided to wake him at three in the morning. It was obviously not an emergency, else it would have come over the intercom system.

“Lights, twenty percent,” he snapped at the computer as he dragged himself out of the comfort of his bed, squinting blearily even in the low light. The day of running around and getting one shock after another had caught up to him and he was feeling it in his back. Sliding the door open, he was prepared to yell at whoever had disturbed him, but found himself looking down at the small body that was Bones. Or John, rather. He had a bed sheet wrapped around himself.

Concern took over. “What’s wrong?”

“Had a nightmare,” the boy muttered, the tips of his ears turning red in embarrassment. Jim wasn’t terribly surprised by this. It had been as much of a bizarre day for the child as it had been for him, if not more so.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked softly.

There was a furious shake of his head, and John clutched at the fabric, pulling it tighter around himself like a shield. “Umm…” he shuffled his feet, unsure. “Can I...uh...can I stay with you?”

Jim was taken aback. “You want to sleep here?”

If it were possible, John’s ears appeared to turn even redder. “I-I’m sorry! Th...this was a bad idea.” John turned to leave, mumbling further apologies for having woken the man, but Jim grabbed his shoulder.

“B-John, wait! Hold up.” The boy met his questioning eyes. “You can stay,” Jim assured him. “You just...caught me off guard is all.” It was obvious John was too distressed to go back alone to his quarters, and oddly enough, Jim found he was unbothered with the idea of the child sharing his room.

“I-I can sleep on the couch...if...if you have one!” he stammered. “Floor works too.”

“You are not sleeping on the floor,” Jim said flatly, refusing to even consider it. There was no couch, but the bed was plenty large enough, especially for a ten-year-old. He ushered the boy inside and John’s nervousness immediately gave way to relief. Shutting the door, Jim slid back into the bed, scooting over to one side and patting the covers next to him.

The surprise was apparent, but slowly, John adjusted his sheet and lifted the bedding to situate himself on the opposite side of the Captain. Nestling down into the soft bed, John shifted to look at Jim. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, kid.” Jim turned the lights back off.

For the rest of the night, sleep proved far less restful than Jim would have liked. Whatever dreams John was having had followed him even to the side of the adult. Every time Jim heard the child’s breath hitch and the whimper that followed, he reached over in the dark, rubbing small circles on the boy’s back. Was it the strange new surroundings that plagued the child? Being out of time?

The Telarian High Priest, Shu’yeri, had mentioned the age being related to difficult times in one’s childhood.

Did that mean that John had witnessed the death of his parents? Probably, given his refusal to discuss the subject and the place it likely had happened, Olduvai.

Death was a hard thing to see, no matter what age, but for a child, even more so. Jim wondered what circumstances had to the loss of John’s parents, but knew he couldn’t ask. Unless the boy was willing to divulge the information on his own, Jim would simply have to do with his own speculations. He could only hope Spock would find something in his search into Bones’ background that explained more about his childhood. Even more so, what he even was, if he were truly alien, and why had he chosen to hide. Humanity, while it had had gone through a period of intense xenophobia after the arrival of the Vulcans, had long since overcome that; it was part of Starfleet’s own mandate, to contact new species, to form friendships and alliances with them. Bones had no need to hide, no reason to pass himself off as a human.

Unless there was something more they had yet to uncover…? Somehow, in his gut, he felt this to be the case. But what could it be?

Another whine escaped John’s throat, and Jim finally caved in to his desire to comfort his friend, pushing the numerous questions from his mind and pulling the small form close to his chest. The boy stiffened momentarily, then his muscles eased, his mind finally slipping further into the depths of sleep.

Jim may have despised all the lies and the mystery that surrounded the other, but for now, he was just a child, a child who needed support and caring people in his life. Answers would surely come in time.

“...build stronger bonds…”

While Jim would probably yell at the other once he returned to normal, he also acknowledged that he still thought of him as a friend. His best friend. They had been through so much together that he just could not do anything but think of the other man as much. Spock had been right about Bones having always performed his duties to the letter, and beyond. The doctor often threw himself into situations at the risk of his own health in order to protect others. His obstinate nature to help others was a fact, going as far as to defy the odds and accomplishing what were essentially miracles in order to save a life.

His own included.

It was then that Jim realized that he would not be where he was if not for Bones.

The man had gotten him aboard the Enterprise during the Narada incident. The Enterprise would likely have been destroyed if not for his intervention, having warped directly into Nero’s warpath, for it had been Jim who had warned them of all the signs of an attack upon Vulcan. Perhaps even Earth itself would have been lost in the Romulan’s rampage.

Then there had been Khan, and Jim’s own death in the ship’s warp core.

That was something he was unsure he’d ever fully come to terms with. Being told that he had actually died, that he’d been dead for some hours, had finally made him pause and question his own mortality. If not for Bones, he would currently be in a box, six feet below the ground. They had managed to keep it under wraps from Starfleet, claiming he’d only been near death, because the ramifications of what would happen should the wrong people learn that death itself had been defeated...well, Jim didn’t want to think about it.

The doctor had done the impossible, disregarding how it could have put him in the very same spotlight he had worked so hard to avoid. There were no small number of people who would have pursued the doctor for his knowledge on that matter. He had risked his own secret, however great it possibly was, all to protect those around him.

For all of Bones’ secrets, Jim could not, would not, ever hate him.

Softly choking back his own tears, he tightened his hold on the small, precious child nestled against his chest.

I’ll keep you safe, Bones. I promise.

Chapter Text

When the alarm woke Jim up, he was less than pleased, exhaustion looming over his head like a storm cloud. Still, he managed to put a small smile on his face for the child that lay curled up beside him, who was protesting under his breath about the early hour. He came around rather quickly though, despite the rough night. Jim was almost a little jealous. Almost. It had been his choice after all to keep the boy with him overnight, and while his nerves were a bit frayed from the fatigue, he had no regrets.

Studying John, Jim decided against inquiring about whatever he’d been dreaming about that had made him upset. With his rumpled clothes, unkempt chocolate hair, and the bright eyes that blinked back at his own tired ones, the ten-year-old looked rather...adorable. Heaven forbid he ever let Bones find that he’d even let that thought cross his mind. He could nearly hear the doctor’s disgruntled retort in his head, thick with his southern accent, ‘Adorable, my ass!’ Jim stifled a laugh, though a cough still escaped him, earning him a curious look from the boy.

Resisting the urge to ruffle his hair as Chekov had done the night prior, Jim instead forced himself out of the bed and to the bathroom, taking care of his needs and cleaning himself up a bit. In the meantime, John had straightened out the covers partially, switching places with Jim once he finished.

They ate the same breakfast, a hearty meal consisting scrambled eggs, bacon and buttered toast, with an apple juice for John and an extra strong coffee for Jim. Noting how much the child had been indulged for lunch and dinner yesterday, Jim made a note to try and focus on getting him to eat healthier today. He hoped John wasn’t opposed to salads or other vegetables as most children were. A few weeks worth of junk food probably wouldn’t harm him (and ironically, Bones had always seemed to have the uncanny ability to eat whatever he wanted and still look fit), but Jim didn’t want to get an earful about properly balanced diets upon his return since he was reportedly going to remember everything.

It was relatively quiet, with John simply asking about the plans for the day and Jim’s work. The Captain was honest, for the most part, about the crew he’d spent the evening with, sans Scotty, and how they would take turns caring for him while they searched for a way to help him ‘return home.’ Though, that in and of itself was true as well. They would care for John until he aged back to himself, in short, his return to himself.

John looked displeased with Jim’s phrasing however, pointedly remarking that he did ‘not need a babysitter,’ causing Jim to clarify that they only wanted to keep him company in this foreign place he’d found himself in. To be friends. John acquiesced to the idea.

As Jim finished depositing the empty dishes in the waste disposal slot (another fascinating topic, and the concept of bio-matter re-sequencers, that he’d gotten into with John the day before), there was a knock at the door. It was Sulu.

“Morning, Captain. I’ve got shift this morning,” he told him before Jim could ask, “but I thought I’d stop by and give you…” he noticed the child beside him, “er...John… this.” He held up the PADD he’d been holding. “I added some games that Demora likes, and some others. Not sure if he’ll enjoy them, but it should keep him busy at least for a little while.” Sulu handed the device over to John, who looked at it with uncertainty.

“Thank you, Lieutenant. I was just thinking of doing that.” Jim turned to the boy. “Please try not to break this one.”

Sulu frowned. “He broke one?”

“Two, actually,”

John hung his head. “I’m sorry.”

It was rather concerning how often Jim was hearing that word being uttered by the boy. He knelt down, lifting John’s chin with a finger. “Hey, it’s okay. I wasn’t scolding you. This whole thing has been a huge shock to you and it’s completely understandable that you’d be upset. Just...be more careful with this one, alright?”

John nodded fervently.

“Anyway, I saw the Commander just a few minutes ago,” Sulu informed Jim. “He said he’ll be by shortly to talk with you about something he found. Oh, and Pavel will be bringing Mr. Scott by around noon. Something about more cards...”

Jim gave a nod, still digesting the first statement. Spock had learned something already? The Vulcan had certainly made his investigation into Bone’s background his utmost priority. “Thanks for letting me know, Mr. Sulu.”

“You’re welcome, sir.” He bowed his head slightly. “Have a good day. And...I hope you enjoy the games I selected, John.”

“I’m sure they’re fine.” The boy lowered the device and gave the man a small smile. “Thanks, Hikaru.” Sulu returned the smile and headed off towards the lift, and Jim nudged the boy back into the room. If Spock was coming over soon, he figured he’d better get changed into something other than his current attire of a t-shirt and lounge pants. John would need a fresh change of clothes as well.

While Jim had a closet full of identical uniforms (and one formal tucked away in the back), John’s apparel was a little trickier, requiring Jim to input the code and size into the replicator, one piece at a time. Passing the fresh clothes over, Jim made a mental note to to produce a few more sets later to save on time each morning. Perhaps something with more color besides the base black standards that every officer wore. Giving the boy some privacy, he vanished into the bathroom to change into his own clothes, slipping into them with practiced ease.

John was still in the midst of changing when Jim emerged, working still on his top. As he tugged the black shirt off and reached for the fresh one, Jim noticed a dark marking down the majority of the boy’s left forearm. Alarmed, he rushed forward and grabbed John’s wrist, making him pause.

Hazel-green eyes stared up at him in surprise. “Yes?”

Jim stretched John’s arm towards him to get a better look. “Is this...a tattoo?”

The boy shrugged, studying the image alongside the Captain. “I guess so. I don’t know when or where I got it though. It was there when I first woke up yesterday.”

The image was distorted, obviously meant for a larger arm. It was something Bones most likely had gotten later in life. Though the details were compressed, Jim could make out that it was a robed figure, holding a long handled weapon of sorts...a scythe?

He blinked. Did Bones seriously have the grim reaper tattooed on his arm? Jim knew it had been ironic for him to give the doctor the nickname that he had, but evidently the other man was quite morbid himself. Then he remembered.

John Grimm.

As in...reaper.

John Grimm ‘reaper.’

Jim balked. Talk about ironic. He vaguely wondered if it was his friend’s own idea or if someone else had suggested it to him like Jim had with the name ‘Bones’ due to old-time doctors being called sawbones. That and the other man’s own words years back then they’d first met on the shuttle to the Academy, of having nothing left except his bones.

“Is it bad? I tried to wipe it off, but it’s definitely permanent.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Jim asked finally.

“I...didn’t want to bother anyone with it,” replied John. “Besides, it doesn’t hurt or anything.”

Jim continued to let his fingers roam over the design, noting the scroll banner running across the lower part of the image. There were letters there. R. R. T… S. 6? It meant absolutely nothing to him. Looking at the confused boy, he assumed it meant nothing to John either.

There was another knock at the door, and Jim nearly jumped at the sudden noise in the silence. It was Spock. Giving only a quick ‘morning’ back at the Commander’s greeting, he all but pulled the other man into his quarters and shut the door. “Another mystery to add to your search, Spock,” he indicated the marking on John’s arm. “R.R.T.S.6.”

The mild annoyance that had flickered across the Vulcan’s face upon being manhandled into the room vanished, and Spock leaned over to scrutinize the tattoo, brows rising with interest. “Most intriguing. I was unaware that the do-” He stopped, correcting his words due to the child’s presence. “This is not something I expected to see.”

“Am I in trouble?” John asked.

“No,” the adults replied simultaneously.

“I shall add it to my search, Captain,” Spock said. “While I am unsure of the relevance of the image itself unless it is simply a play on words, the abbreviation must have some significance for it to have been tattooed onto his body. Perhaps the two are related.”

“This is making me suddenly think of gangs,” Jim muttered. Had Bones been in a gang? What a bizarre thought that was.

Spock dismissed the idea. “I find that unlikely. However, assuming it represents an organization or group, I am fairly certain I will be able to determine the origin.”

“No gangs, no groups, no anything,” John piped up from between them. “At least not that I know of.”

“I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about,” Jim assured him. “But maybe it can tell us more about, uh, how you’re here.”

John hummed in response before nibbling on the corner of his lip. “Er...Is this a bad time to mention that I can also see in the dark?”

Like with the tattoo, John’s ability to see regardless of the level of lighting, or even complete lack of, was new to him. He’d woken up with it. As Spock examined his eyes, John also took the opportunity to explain his strong sense of smell as well.

Each person he’d been around had their own unique scent to them, relatable to what Jim and Spock knew to be hobbies or preferences in products. Jim was apparently like a fresh rainy day, most likely from his choice of shampoo, though yesterday John explained he’d initially smelled a bit sick. No doubt from Jim’s hangover. Spock smelled of wood and smoke from his incense that he burned occasionally during mediation. Chekov was mildly sweet like the candy he sometimes would sneak on shift when he thought no one was looking. Uhura was like fresh linen and strawberries due to her own body care choices. Somewhat embarrassed, John said Sulu smelled like flowers, and Jim knew that the helmsman enjoyed spending his free time in the botany section of the life sciences department.

He explained the scents of some of the other crewmen as well. The lieutenant they’d encountered in the hall after his escapade had smelled a bit like petroleum, which made sense since she was assigned to engineering. Doctor M’Benga’s scent was earthy and of strong coffee beneath the antiseptic. One of the nurses in medbay had smelled like burnt eggs, and if Jim recalled correctly, she often preferred cooking from scratch over replicated food. Perhaps that morning hadn’t gone so well.

While all the scents were bearable, he had disliked the smell in particular that had come from Christine. The best that John could explain it was that she had smelled sour...and messy. Was messy a smell? Jim wasn’t sure about that, but he almost choked then when he recalled that she was currently seeing one of the other crew members and Bones had informed him that she opted to stay on the ship the night of the festivities on Telaris to spend some time together with her partner.

If Jim didn’t know any better, he was pretty damn sure John had smelled sex on her. Noticing the tips of Spock’s own ears take on a noticeable shade of green, the Vulcan had undoubtedly reached the same conclusion. Neither decided to explain that one to the boy though. Adult Bones knew all about that particular subject. There was no need to re-explain such an awkward thing to his child self. Instead, he coughed in second-hand embarrassment and tried to move the conversation along.

If it were true, which Jim strongly suspected was, Bones had most assuredly known all the times when Jim had a fling back during their academy days and he’d rather not think about it, feeling quite disturbed and almost intimidated by his friend’s apparent ability to just sniff out his activities.

On the other hand, it also explained Bone’s knack for knowing when something was wrong with Jim before even Jim did. It was certainly a benefit to his job as a doctor, even if it was a rather uncomfortable feeling now that Jim knew about it.

He did wonder why this was all a new experience to John though, unless his species developed such abilities later in life, though he would have expected his parents to explain it to him. Unless John was unique in general. Yet, from what he knew of genetics, the offspring of parents bearing the same number of chromosomes couldn’t produce a child with an additional pair. And regarding hybrid offspring from some species, such as horses and donkeys, where each parent had a different number of chromosomes, the child produced instead bore half of that extra chromosome. Which inadvertently made the child sterile. John had a full twenty-four pairs. No halves. Which meant his parents had to have had the same amount.

Unless John was some long lost alien kid that had crash landed on Earth like the old comic hero Superman.

Jim almost smacked himself for the idiotic thought. Not that John was unlike the aforementioned superhero, with his enhanced sense of sight, smell and strength, and whatever else they had yet to verify. No, there had to be an explanation. But what?

John seemed to be of a similar mindset, because he asked, “Can time travel change someone physically? Like...am I an alien now or something?”

It was obvious that John believed himself human despite his inhuman abilities. Jim wasn’t sure how to answer that question if he was honest with himself, and he could only watch as the boy frowned at the lack of response to his inquiry.

Jim felt another headache coming on. Plucking up the PADD on the bed where John had set it down before changing, he opened up the file Sulu had placed all the games under and selected one before returning it to the boy. “How about you finished getting dressed and give this a try. There should be a tutorial here-” he pointed at one corner, “and all the controls are touch screen. I need a moment to speak with Mr. Spock privately, but I’ll be right back. All right?”

“’kay.” John was displeased but didn’t argue.

Jim gave a grim smile then ushered Spock back out into the hall. Pleased to see it was vacant for the moment, he leaned back against the now closed door.

“Christ, this is infuriating,” he mumbled, running a hand through his hair. “I feel like for every answer we get, there’s another dozen questions.”

“I do concur that there is much we do not know about him, and unfortunately in his current state, he is unable to provide much assistance as he is unaware of his own history. I shall add this new information we’ve learned to my research,” Spock said. He took a breath, giving Jim a leveled look. “That aside, Captain, I came here to inform you that I found something among Doctor McCoy’s personal effects.”

“Oh shit.” Jim cringed. “Sulu had mentioned you had something to tell me, then I got all distracted with the tattoo. Sorry, Spock.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “So...what did you find?”

“Apology accepted,” Spock replied. “Now, I spent a significant amount of time yesterday going through his personnel file and belongings. On the surface, all the records in the Federation’s database appear legitimate, however, upon closer examination, I found that they only contained the most basic of information. There is no family listed save for what I presume are fictional parents and immediate relatives, all of whom reportedly are deceased by the time he turned eighteen.”

“Any marriages? Kids?” Jim asked, thinking back to the first conversation he’d ever had with the man.

“I did verify the authenticity of the singular marriage listed on file,” answered Spock. “A Jocelyn Darnell in 2250, who had a daughter from a previous relationship. However, they divorced in 2255, with Ms. Darnell managing to obtain a considerable amount of his known assets. He enlisted in Starfleet soon after.”

“At least that much he told me was true,” Jim, replied sullenly.

Spock continued his report. “As for possessions, he has none aside from essentials and Starfleet issued materials. Save for this.” Reaching into his pocket, Spock withdrew the golden, blue-stoned ring Bones had always worn on his left pinky finger. In his shock regarding his friend’s physical changes, Jim hadn’t even noticed the ring, which was essentially a permanent fixture on Bone’s person, missing.“I found it on the floor of his quarters, where I presume he dropped it upon his regression to his smaller state. The ring is what many would consider to be feminine in it’s design, and the piece itself is quite old, leading me to believe that it may have belonged to his sister.” He carefully picked up the band between two fingers, letting the stone twinkle in the light. “I found that it is also more than a simple piece of jewelry. It contains a micro data chip inside the band, where the setting meets the stone.”

“A data chip? Really?” Jim took the ring, raising it to the light and attempting to get a closer look at the inside of the ring. “Anything on it?”

“Regrettably, there is only a single file available, an old photo that was converted to digital format.” Spock pulled up the image in question on his PADD, presenting it to Jim. It was a portrait photo of a woman. It was relatively grainy, and the color faded, but one could still easily make out her blonde hair and her deep blue-green eyes that seemed almost sad, not quite matching the small smile that was upon her lips. “The file was marked as ‘Sam.’”

“Sam,” Jim repeated. “As in Samantha?”

“Most likely. Which backs my belief that this ring once belonged to her.”

Despite the difference in hair and eye color, Jim could see the resemblance, noting the similar facial features she had in comparison to John’s older self. Same chin, same cheekbones. Undoubtedly, this was the sister John had spoken of. She appeared to be in her early to mid-thirties, not much younger than Bones was (normally), or at least what was presumed to be his age if they were going by his records. Jim was uncertain whether his age was as falsified as the rest of his personnel file given there was still the question of how the man as even in the 23^rd century.

“Would you like for me to transfer the file to you, Captain?”

“I-” Jim hadn’t realized he’d inadvertently been staring at the image while deep in thought. “That won’t be necessary, Commander.” He met the other’s gaze. “Did you happen to find anything else?”

“Unfortunately I have not,” the Vulcan replied. “However, in light of the marking on his arm, I am confident that it will answer at least some of our questions. By my estimate, he most likely received it sometime during Earth’s last world war, which narrows down the list of possible groups it may represent.”

“That’s assuming it even refers to any group. It could mean anything.”

“True,” admitted Spock, lifting a brow ever so slightly. “However, it is the only significant piece of information we have been given thus far. It would be imprudent not to follow up on it.”

Sighing heavily, Jim gave a nod. “Very well. Hopefully it gives us something. You seem to have enough optimism for the both of us.”

“I am merely calculating the statistics based on what we know of his personality,” Spock replied. “Despite the omissions and falsehoods surrounding his true origins, I do not believe that Doctor McCoy has spent all these years serving Starfleet whilst presenting himself as someone he is not. Particularly given his chosen profession that requires him to work closely with others.” The other brow arched up beside the first, intrigued. “If he truly were faking his persona, I would assume he would opt for more suitable mannerisms than how he was conducted himself up to this point. While his work ethic and skill are undeniable, his ‘bedside manner,’ as it were, is most lacking. And though he does often act upon his emotions, he does not simply perform random acts. If he chose to permanently mark his skin, there must be a deeper meaning behind it.”

“True,” Jim agreed, then frowned again. “Still...the grim reaper? Really?”

“Indeed.” The corner of Spock’s mouth twitched and Jim couldn’t help but think that the other man was rather amused.

Having nothing else to say, Spock excused himself and Jim slipped back into his quarters, seeing that John was still sitting on the edge of the bed where he’d left him. He’d seemed to have learned how to navigate around the PADD, a different game from the one Jim had set up now playing across the screen, soft pings echoing in the room. Hearing the door, John glanced up, setting the device down in his lap.

“I didn’t mean to keep things from you,” he spoke softly. “It’s just been so….strange. Being here, in the future. In space.” He swallowed hard, uneasy. “Not knowing anyone. Not knowing if I can go home. All these strange things going on with me…” As if to demonstrate, he wiggled the device gently in his hands. “Like with the cards...it’s like...just looking at things I can easily find the pattern and my brain just calculates the odds without me needing to think too hard about it. I don’t remember things being so easy before. It’s not just my surroundings that are different. It’s...everything.” His eyes looked up at Jim almost pleadingly. “I’m different. And I….I’m scared, Jim.”

Jim.

Despite having introduced himself as such at their initial meeting, he realized he had yet to hear John actually call him that. It was odd to hear his name from the child self of his friend, but at the same time, he realized he had missed it as well, even if it was completely missing the familiar gruff tone of the doctor.

But right now, Bones wasn’t a doctor. Just a young boy. One in obvious need of comfort.

“There’s nothing wrong with being different,” he informed the boy as he took a seat on the bed beside him. “And there’s nothing wrong with being scared. I understand all these changes are confusing. I admit, even I don’t understand much of what’s happened, but we are looking into it.”

“What if you don’t find an answer though? What if...what if I can’t go home?”

Jim paused, disliking the question. “Spock is good at what he does. If anyone can find the answers, it’s him. He’s nothing if not thorough in his research.”

“But what if he can’t?” the boy insisted. “What if I’m stuck here?”

“We...we’ll deal with that if it comes to that.”

John idly fiddled with the PADD, sliding his fingers across the screen. “And if it does come to that...will you send me away?”

“Do you want me to send you away?” Jim asked.

“No.” John stopped his motions. “I...I’m not sure why, but...” He looked up again, his expression curious. “I don’t know you, and yet something is telling me that you’re a good person. That you’ll keep me safe.”

A small spark of hope flared in Jim’s chest. Perhaps Bones hadn’t forgotten them entirely after all. He wrapped an arm around the boy. “I will do everything I can to protect you, John,” he voiced the vow he’d made during the night. “That I promise you.”

“I still don’t get why you care so much for some kid you don’t know,” John told him, placing the device aside, “but I...I’m glad. It makes me feel...less alone.” He turned, wrapping his small arms around the Captain. “Thank you.”

If only you remembered, Jim thought. While the memories were missing in Bone’s current state, at least there seemed to be some semblance of feelings, the connection of their friendship, still there, scratching at the surface. For that alone, Jim found that he was content.

They stayed like that for a time, before eventually migrating from the bed over to the seats at the table as Jim decided to try and show him some (hopefully) more challenging games on the PADD Sulu had brought over. It was quickly determined that the puzzle games installed on the device were too basic for the boy, who began to appear almost bored. Whether it was John’s buried knowledge of things he already had learned surfacing, or if he truly was more intelligent than most, Jim didn’t know.

In order to gauge how much John understood, he decided to pull up a mock academy exam from Starfleet’s database and present it to the boy. This appeared to be of more interest to John as he straightened up in his seat and focused all his attention to the questions on the screen, only asking the occasional definition for words he was unfamiliar with.

His score was lower than the average, but still passing. For someone who hadn’t studied, it was impressive. John had a strong grasp of physics and mathematical equations. He also seemed to recall his more basic medical knowledge and had a general idea of engineering, fumbling more over the questions with long-winded terminology. Genetics, ironically, was his strongest point, and, seeing Jim’s surprise, he reminded him that his parents had both been researchers and that they’d been teaching him and his sister in the hopes that they would follow the same career path one day.

Ironically, he basically had, Jim noted. The medical and science fields were not so vastly different from one another.

Following up on the test, John inquired if it was fine for him to read up further on certain topics, to which Jim could see no reason why he couldn’t, even after John began to wonder about how his knowledge of the future might tamper with time and how it might lead to possible catastrophic events.

That would be true, in a traditional sense, but this was far from a traditional case. Jim simply insisted that John be careful with what he learned and that he trusted him.

John frowned again, but accepted his answer.

Noon soon rolled around, and right on the hour, Chekov and Scotty arrived

“Well, I’ll be damned,” was the Scotsman's first response upon seeing John, earning himself an elbow in the side from his companion. Shoving his shock aside, he extended a hand and introduced himself to the boy who was evidently Leonard McCoy as well.

The pair extended an invitation to lunch, with Jim learning that his senior officers had made arrangements to reserve a recreation room for select hours while they entertained their small friend. Jim appreciated that they’d taken the initiative concerning John’s comfort. It gave the boy a place where he could be away from the inquisitive eyes of the rest of the crew, and with food replicators available in the room selected, he would have no need to brave the crowd in the mess hall either.

Pavel led the way, excitedly chattering away with John beside him about the new card games he wished to teach him. Falling back a distance behind Pavel and John, Scotty hissed in Jim’s ear, “I cannae believe it. He really is a wee laddie now!”

“I did warn you.”

“Ye did, Captain, but to see it…why, that shouldnae be possible!”

“It shouldn’t be,” Jim agreed, “and yet here we are.”

Scotty pursed his lips, thinking, then said, “I suppose this means I cannae drink with him until he returns to normal then.”

Jim gave the Scotsman a horrified look. “Absolutely not! No underage drinking is permitted aboard my ship.”

“None at all?” Scotty hummed, amused. “I suppose I won’t be mentioning Pavel’s past violations then.”

Jim only let out an exasperated sigh.

Lunch was a vocal affair, filled with numerous questions and answers about how the ship’s engines and various other systems worked, the topic even moving into their subsequent card games of baccarat, blackjack and other poker variations. Jim was relieved to be given a break from the lengthy explanations, though his chief engineer seemed more than willing to provide whatever answers John sought.

As for John, well, he decided that he liked Scotty, even as he told the man that he smelled of grease and engine fuel.

Chapter Text

Over the next few days, Jim’s fellow crewmen were eager to entertain the Enterprise’s young resident. Chekov and Scotty continued to play cards with the boy, though they more often than not found themselves on the losing end due to his card counting abilities with many of the games. At one point, Scotty even took him on a tour through engineering, jubilantly showing him the warp core and primary systems. Other than a few small smiles and waves, the rest of the staff gave them ample space, watching warmly as the child’s eyes lit up in fascination.

Outside of cards and engineering, John had decided to take up linguistics with Uhura upon learning her position aboard the ship. To her surprise, he understood the basic syntax quickly, and, with his impeccable memory, was soon was able to speak a few full sentences to her in her mother tongue, Swahili, as well as a few odd words in Vulcan. Then, in the early evenings, he spent some time with Sulu in the botany department, much to the helmsman’s delight. He had been the most uncertain about the doctor’s change, but when John had requested if he could see the plants that he apparently smelled upon his person, Sulu had happily obliged. It was refreshing for someone to be interested in his hobby and for him to be able to talk about the different types of flora and their care. By the end of first time there, John had returned to Jim’s quarters bearing a small potted succulent, which he set in the center of the room’s little dining table.

At some point, even Spock had decided to spend some leisure time with the child outside his work and the investigation.

“Spock, what are you doing with your chess set?” Jim inquired when his first officer arrived at the recreation room during one of their reserved time periods, a silver case in his hands.

“I mean to ask John if he wishes to play.”

“You want to play chess with a ten year old?” Not that he would judge, but Jim hadn’t cared much for the game when he was that age. He was uncertain if John would either.

“I do not see why I cannot,” the Vulcan replied simply. “I found the Vulcan variant to be quite stimulating as a child myself.”

Apparently John was more like Spock than Jim, immediately intrigued as the board was set up. “This is chess?” he asked. “Why are there so many platforms?”

“This is three-dimensional chess,” Spock explained to him. “The rules are relatively the same as what you may be familiar with, but the playing field is larger.”

Taking a seat across from him, John watched attentively as the Vulcan walked him through the first couple of games before playing for real. Observing the matches, Jim came to realize that John was a very unique child, his eyes constantly roving across the game board, taking in every little detail, every move his opponent made and adapting his strategy as they went. While Spock won the first few rounds with ease, the games gradually became longer and longer, with the Vulcan needing more time to make a move.

By the end of the second hour, John had won three games in a row.

“You seem to anticipate my next move,” he told the boy as he set his king down beside his discarded pieces.

“I did,” John admitted. “You favor your queen once I reach your king’s level and then you make the same move almost every time.”

Spock blinked, mildly taken aback. “You are correct. I was unaware I was continually choosing the same course of action. You are quite observant.”

John grinned, happy to be praised.

It hadn’t escaped Jim’s notice that the boy seemed to thrive on praise, making him believe that John hadn’t gotten much of it at home. It soon became clear that this was indeed the case. Unfortunately, John’s nightmares persisted with each passing night, with the boy taking up permanent residency in Jim’s room. The captain did what he could to comfort the boy, and John tried to keep a smile on his face for those around him, but it failed him by the end of the week. His mood had begun to sour considerably, and he was unable to hide it from the other crewmen anymore.

It was Spock who first learned of it, the reason behind John’s frequent apologies and desire to please, and it began with a stuffed bear. With Jim off doing a few rounds around the ship to check up on the crew at the time, Chekov had gotten wind of John’s restless nights and had somehow, somewhere, procured the plush toy. It had soft brown fur, not unlike John’s hair color, and a green bow tied around it’s neck. Approaching the pair at one of their chess games, he presented it to the baffled boy.

“I thought you may like zis,” the navigator said with a gentle smile. “Perhaps ze vill help you sleep.”

“Er…thank you, Pavel.” John took the bear hesitantly and returned a small, awkward smile. “I’ll take good care of it.”

Chekov appeared pleased and, after wishing for the boy to feel better, returned to his duties.

Spock studied the child, noting his solemn face. “Is there a problem? You do not seem to find Mr. Chekov’s gift satisfactory.”

“I...no, it’s not that,” John replied. “It’s just…I’m too old for toys.”

Setting down his chess piece in the same spot, Spock gave him a questioning look. “It is my understanding that many children receive toys as gifts through their teenage years. You are a mere ten Terran years of age and thus are adequately young enough to receive such things.”

John was silent before mumbling something under his breath.

Even Spock’s sensitive ears failed to pick up on the words. “Please repeat that.”

John grimaced, looking away. “I said...I’m not allowed to have things like toys. I’m a bad kid.”

Spock’s lips dipped into a slight frown. “Who has told you this?”

“Aunt Clara. She said it’s my fault they died.”

“That who died?”

“Our parents. She said it was my fault they died.” There was a soft choking sound. “She-she said that I’m only trouble. That I...that I can’t do anything right.” Tears welled up in the boy’s eyes. “It’s my fault. It’s all my fault…!” He stood up suddenly and moved as if to bolt out of the room, but Spock intercepted him.

Trying and failing to move around the towering wall that was the Vulcan, John simply stood there and broke down into tears, mumbling apologies over and over again. Illogically, Spock felt the intense need to reach out, to comfort the boy, and he rested a hand upon John’s shoulder, the edge of his thumb accidentally brushing against the child’s neck. The brief contact was just enough for him to pick up on the flood of emotions. He could hear the pained, grief stricken voice of a woman yelling at the child before him.

“It’s your fault! Why did you play there? You knew it was forbidden! They’re dead because you didn’t listen! My brother is dead because of you!”

“I’m sorry!”

There was a flash of a dry rocky area, the sound of playful cries that turned to screams as the ground shook and dust filled the air.

“No!”

“I’m sorry,” John said again, in the present. “I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry!”

Not knowing what else to do, Spock simply wrapped his arms around the child and let him sob into his shirt.

After some time, he departed the recreation room, making his way to the lift, where his Captain happened to step off of at the same time.

“Spock?” Jim took in the sight before him. The Vulcan was holding a sleeping John in his arms, the boy’s head propped against one shoulder, a small plush bear propped on the his stomach. Spock shot his Captain a decidedly stern look, not wishing to wake the child. Without a word, he stepped into the elevator, and Jim turned on his heel to join him, managing to get a quick briefing on what had happened as soon as John had been returned to Jim’s quarters and tucked into bed.

Jim didn’t know the woman, this Clara, and thankfully he never would, for if she had still been alive, he would have ripped into her for blaming a child for something that was obviously an accident. There was no doubt in his mind that John had had nothing to do with the collapse of the dig site. Geologically, the terrain on Mars was quite active with frequent quakes and the terrain unstable. It had taken several attempts to stabilize structures during initial attempts to colonize the planet’s surface. A dig site from the 2020s was unlikely to have had the required engineering to withstand the constant shifts underground.

It pained him to know that John felt he was to blame for his parents’ deaths, his aunt having driven that belief into his young head. He was unsure of how to correct that, not confident that an explanation of the planet’s geological activity would be sufficient enough. He was, after all, not John’s family, at least not by blood. Still, it couldn’t hurt to try. John’s distress over the matter was the likely culprit for his nightmares, and Jim needed to get on top of it.

It was the reason they were given this chance by the Telarians, wasn’t it?

Despite his explanation to John though, his nights continued to grow ever worse, leaving Jim to slowly suspect there was more to it than just the death of his parents. While John had primarily just tossed back and forth restlessly in his sleep, on the eighth night, it turned to screams.

Jim jolted awake, his ears ringing from the close proximity of the source. John. The boy writhed on the bed, another cry escaping his lips. Immediately, Jim was wide-awake and alert, calling for the lights and shaking the boy. “Hey, hey! Wake up!” Instead of waking, John began to sob.

“No! Go away! Leave me alone!”

Jim loomed over the boy, doubling down on his efforts to shake him awake. “John! It’s okay. Wake up!” He winced as a small fist struck his shoulder.

“John!”

Another shrill scream was his only answer.

The door to Jim’s quarters slid open to reveal Spock, who appeared rather disheveled from having been awoken, but still managing to maintain the same stoic expression he was known for. “Return to your quarters,” he ordered over his shoulder to the crewmen who had poked their heads out of the room to investigate the noise. He closed the door behind him, crossing the room in a single stride to kneel onto the bed beside the boy. “What is wrong?”

“Nightmares. Bad ones,” Jim responded. He attempted to wake the boy again. “John. You’re safe. You’re safe here! Come on, kiddo, wake up!”

Another cry escaped John. “No. No! Don’t eat me!”

Eat him? What in the hell was he dreaming about? “Call Doctor M’Benga.”

Spock was already reaching for his comm before Jim had even finished speaking, and the doctor was at the door not even five minutes later, looking frazzled but alert, a medkit in his hands. Rattling off a quick explanation, Jim moved back to allow the man closer to scan John, who was still writhing beneath Spock’s firm hand on his chest.

“Other than an increased heart rate, nothing is reading out of the ordinary,” M’Benga informed them. “I can give him a mild sedative to help him sleep, but I don’t recommend it for more than a few days. You need to get to the root of the problem and find out exactly what is troubling him.”

Jim eyed the child, who let out another sharp cry. “Do it.”

There was a hiss as the doctor pressed a hyprospray to the boy’s neck. A moment, two passed, and John continued to squirm, whining audibly. With a frown, M’Benga scanned him again.

“I...I don’t understand…?” came the questioning mumble.

Jim leaned forward, further concerned. “What’s wrong?”

“I...the sedative. It’s not there.” M’Benga handed the medical scanner over to Spock. “Scan his vitals. I’m going to give him another one.” Another hiss, and John did not slow down in the least.

“Curious,” Spock answered their curious expressions. “It would appear that he is metabolizing the medication before it has a chance to take effect.”

“He...what?” The doctor stared at the boy. “Well, if I can’t sedate him, and he’s not waking up, I don’t know what else I can do,” he paused, thinking. “But...maybe you can.” His dark eyes re-focused on Spock.

Spock frowned. “If you are referring to a mind meld, I find that I must protest. The child is unable to give his consent, even if he were to understand the complexities of such an intimate action.”

“Then we do nothing,” M’Benga replied, “And Leonard hurts himself or someone else.” He gave Jim a knowing side eye, the Captain’s idle rubbing of his shoulder not having escaped his attention. Seeing where the doctor’s gaze went, Spock’s brows dipped in concern.

“Very well. If the Captain is in agreement,” Jim tipped his head in answer, “then I will attempt to meld with him. If I am successful, I should be able to calm him with my presence and assist in placing a barrier around the negative thoughts that are causing his distress.” Spock returned his attention back to the boy.

He did not care for this option at all, feeling as though he were an invader, but since it was the only option that remained to them, he would do what he could to ensure the child some peace. Positioning his fingers against John’s face, Spock delved into the child’s mind.

What he saw made no sense at all.

It began with the same imagery from before. The screams, the rust-colored soil thrown up into the air as the dig site collapsed, John’s repeated apologies ringing in his ears. Then, the scenes shifted, changing into something else, something...darker.

The interior of a facility, metallic and sterile in it’s initial appearance. Olduvai, perhaps? The rooms shifting before his eyes seemed to verify that, filled with antique scientific instruments and medical tools. A glass case sitting upon a table flashed before him, filled with the skeletal remains of two humanoids, an adult with an infant cradled in it’s arms.

The peculiarity of the position intrigued him, and the sudden echo of vaguely familiar voice spoke. “You don’t shield a baby from time.”

No. Indeed, one does not. He had little time to dwell on it however as the images fluctuated, the lights above flickering. He turned, noting the large, red smear on the glass wall beside him, blackened clumps mixed in. Blood? A low hiss sounded behind him, and he only just made out a misshapen form embedded in a wall before it vanished, replaced with dark empty halls, electrical wires sparking overhead.

Maneuvering his way through the child’s mind, searching, he checked room upon room, some vacant, some not. In one, metal cages, first containing varying animals, then changing to without, chunks of mangled flesh and fur caught in the sharp edges where the wires had been torn apart. In another, the woman from the photo, Sam, her blonde hair unkempt and her expression one of terror.

Another male voice, unfamiliar this time, loud and angry. “The fuck are you people working on up here?”

The imagery refocused, showing him again the darkened room with the empty cages along with something new. A man in a bloodied lab coat was leaned over a terrarium.

There was the familiar voice again. Was it John’s? “...We’re here to help you. Sir, are you okay?”

The man being addressed turned, grabbing a wriggling white rat out of it’s enclosure and, in one singular motion, bit it’s head right off. In moments the rodent was gone, the man slurping up the tail like a stray pasta noodle.

Despite his best efforts, Spock could not help the nausea that suddenly churned in his stomach at witnessing such a disturbing scene.

What is this? Why was such imagery in John’s head? Just what exactly had happened in his past to result in such primal, savage behavior like that he had just witnessed?

If not for the clarity of what he had seen, Spock might simply have brushed it off as an overly active imagination, the result of watching too many holo videos. Yet it seemed all too real. So much so that he could even smell the metallic tang of iron in the air.

It was...frightening.

He shoved the bloody image aside, just as the man grabbed a serrated blade and rushed forward with a guttural scream.

He felt like he was getting close. He had to be. The images were becoming more chaotic, more disturbing as he went. Screams rang down the halls, grotesque forms looming in the darkness, snarling at him, the sharp barrage of cracks in the air that he could only assume was gunfire.

Where are you, Doctor?

“Mutinous insurrection is punishable by death.”

A young man, looking to be no more than his early twenties and wearing what appeared to be old style military tactical gear, was lying on the floor. Blood poured from a grievous wound on his throat and pooled around him on the floor, dark eyes staring lifelessly up to the ceiling.

“John!”

Spock turned, following the sound of the woman’s voice.

“I know you.”

There was John’s voice again. “You don’t know me. You don’t know…”

“You’re my brother. I know you.”

Pushing open a door, he found the adult self of his target, curled up on his side on the floor in the center of a large room, his arms over his face and fingers pulling at his hair. The man wore the same black clothes as the youth from before, a large assault rifle lying off to his side. A distinct sob reached Spock’s ears.

“No. No no nononono… Go away!”

“...Leonard?” Spock inquired tentatively.

The man flickered, then was gone, a small child in his place, clad in a simple t-shirt and lounge pants. Spock knelt down beside him, resting a hand upon the exposed shoulder. “John.”

“No,” the boy repeated. “Go away. Please. Just leave me alone!”

“John,” Spock repeated more firmly. “I am here to help you.”

The boy uncurled slightly, gazing up at him through tear-filled eyes. “...Spock?”

“Come,” Spock ordered softly. Helping him up, he led the boy back through his mind, putting up makeshift mental shields along the way and blocking out the violent imagery. All the while, John held a tight grip on his sleeve, not daring to let go.

Withdrawing from the child’s mind, Spock sat back, feeling rather drained. Jim, who sat at the small table, with M’Benga finishing examining the ugly purple bruise that blossomed across his skin, thankfully did not pressure him to divulge what he had seen. Spock for one was unsure of how to even report the macabre things he had seen, let alone if he even should. For now, seeing John finally relaxed in his sleep for the first time, the Captain only gave him a small, relieved smile and a thank you. Spock simply dipped his head and, carefully extracting himself from the boy’s grasp, retreated back to his quarters. While John was at relative ease for the remainder of the night, Spock himself found that sleep completely eluded him, disturbed by what he had seen in the other’s mind.

Despite John’s fears of the crew being upset with him over having their sleep disturbed, when morning finally arrived, there was a small pile of various gifts piled in front of Jim’s door and Jim’s inbox was filled with an unexpectedly large amount of sympathetic messages all addressed to ‘Leonard.’ Jim was thankful that there were no complaints; even if the crew would dare to say something, which they did not, he could see in their eyes the worry and concern for the child. It was easily enough explained away that the boy was simply afraid of his current surroundings, and lacking any family in the personnel files, they could easily understand his unease around people he did not know (or rather, could not remember).

Jim’s senior staff fawned over the boy even more than before upon learning of that night. Despite Jim’s best efforts to establish a balanced diet, his crew kept sneaking the boy treats and candies at every opportunity they got, with John accumulating quite the stash in Jim’s bottom dresser drawer. Thankfully, despite the sizable amount of sugar he was ingesting, John seemed to be no worse for wear and Doctor M’Benga told Jim not to worry much about it since all his scans showed a completely healthy ten-year-old boy.

Scotty, in his enthusiasm to make John smile more, asked Jim if he could take a shuttle craft out with Sulu and the boy and fly around for a bit. Immediately, Jim reminded them of Bones’ aviophobia. “He’s afraid to fly.”

John however, gave Jim a confused look. “Huh? No, I’m not.”

It was Jim’s turn to be confused. Was it a fear Bones had developed later in life? “You’re not?”

“No,” said John. “May I go? Please?” The drawn out emphasis on the ‘please’ make Jim sigh, and he waved a hand for the trio to go ahead, and John nearly skipped away in his excitement. It would be several hours before Jim would see them again, and, after learning about it, Jim later scolded his two crewmen for allowing an untrained child to pilot the craft around, though only halfheartedly when he saw how happy John was about the experience.

Though John seemed to enjoy his time spent with each of the crew, he surprisingly became very attached to Spock. Then again, the Vulcan ended up being the only thing that was able to help the poor child sleep at night. The sedatives proved useless, alongside any other medications M’Benga thought to have them try, John’s metabolism ultimately proved to be highly efficient and filtered them out moments after they were in his bloodstream.

When his first officer informed him that it was likely few, if any substances, had any effect on John, Jim happened to be watching the boy munch away on yet another chocolate bar, the third one that day. Well, that explains how he can eat whatever he wants and still be healthy.

It wasn’t until later that Jim suddenly came to a realization.

“Son of a- no wonder Bones never lost a drinking bet! He can’t get drunk, can he? The cheat!”

Chapter Text

Jim was amused.

As an adult, Bones seemed to almost dislike the Enterprise’s Vulcan first officer considering how often the two seemed to bicker. Or rather, how the doctor seemed to gripe at and about the other man really. Deep down, Jim knew Bones thought of Spock as a friend, but he certainly didn’t make a point of showing it.

As a child, Bones was openly...attached.

Quite literally at times.

However, they had made a mistake with the boy. With only his childhood knowledge intact, and that being from a time long before First Contact, John had no idea about certain boundaries that some species had.

Such as Vulcans having very sensitive hands.

Spock had visibly twitched, cheeks flushing, when John wrapped his hand around his and proceeded to tug him along to the rec room for one of their many chess sessions, which had increased in frequency in recent days. John, in his enthusiasm, didn’t noticed the Vulcan’s discomfort, instead happily chattering away and thanking Spock yet again for keeping the ‘monsters’ in his dreams away.

Uhura, who happened to have been present at that moment, having just had lunch with her boyfriend, clapped a hand over her mouth in shock. Jim moved to speak, to gently rebuke John for the inconsiderate action, but Spock gave the Captain a single shake of his head. Instead, to both their shock, he curled his fingers around to grasp the child’s hand more firmly and let himself be led along.

“Oh gods,” Uhura groaned, though her chocolate eyes were bright with mirth. “He’ll never live this down now.”

“Who?” Jim asked as he watched the pair walk away, not quite understanding. “Spock?”

“No. Leonard.”

Jim laughed.

Spock must have informed the boy of his error at some point though, because afterwards, Jim noted that he only ever grabbed onto the edge of Spock’s sleeve. Whether or not he had told John that hand contact was also how Vulcan’s kissed, Jim didn’t know, but the boy did not look embarrassed, so he presumed not. Best not to mention it.

At least not to child Bones anyway.

Adult Bones...well...Jim now had some blackmail to make up for the fact that the man could smell sex on him and never said anything. That and everything else.

Thinking about it, Jim did wonder though, about the monsters that John spoke about. The boy had not brought up his nightmares to him, save for ‘not wanting the aforementioned entities to eat him,’ nor had Spock given any details on what he saw in the child’s mind. Whatever it was, wasn’t good though. Though he seemed to be less fazed by it with each subsequent meld he did with the boy, Jim could not forget the look on Spock’s face from the first night. Confusion. Unease.

Fear.

It was not an emotion he cared to see on anyone’s face, let alone his usually reserved first officer. Whatever the Vulcan had seen, he found that Spock spent less time on the bridge after that, and more time between his quarters and the science lab, only supplying the singular word of ‘research’ when asked.

Initially, Spock had attempted to teach John meditation so he could place up his own mental barriers in his mind. Unfortunately, the boy found it too difficult to clear his mind enough to enter an adequate state of serenity, leaving Spock to come to the rescue each night.

Which ended up leading to a new problem nearing the end of two weeks since his friend’s regression.

Or rather, more of an uncomfortable situation for the two adults.

Scooting himself into the middle of the bed, John looked up hopefully at Spock. “Stay? Please?”

Spock froze. Jim almost choked.

John blushed, looking away. “Sorry, it was stupid,” he replied sullenly.

“No, no,” Jim replied hurriedly. “Uh...it’s fine. I mean, if Spock’s okay with it.” He had a king sized bed after all and it would make things a bit easier without the need for the other man to run around after hours until the boy was ready for bed.

For his part, Spock said nothing, though the tips of his ears darkened alongside his Captain’s cheeks.

When informed that he would not be spending his nights for the time being in his own quarters, Uhura at first was baffled, then broke down laughing when it was explained to her.

“I’m sorry, but that’s adorable,” she told them. “You do know he’s going to kill you both when he returns to normal, right? For not saying ‘no.’”

True, if Bones didn’t die from embarrassment first.

For the moment however, he was just a child, and one in need of emotional support. Both Jim, and Spock as it were, found themselves just unable to say no to him at all. Thankfully, John, if he were aware of this little fact, did not take advantage of it either, maintaining his polite and quiet demeanor.

Since it wouldn't be long before word got around the ship, Jim made it a point to let the crew know to keep their opinions to themselves. There was absolutely nothing going on. Just keeping a child happy. That was it.

The crew of the Enterprise did indeed say nothing on the matter, though they made no effort to hide their amusement at their Captain and Commander’s predicament.

Jim and Spock continued to blush at the side smiles and barely contained giggles and hushed laughs.

John was simply oblivious.

When he wasn’t spending time with any of the crew, Jim noticed that John spent a considerable amount of time on the PADD he’d been given. He didn’t spend it on any games though, but rather reading article after article. Jim had pointed out the Federation’s main database on various subject matter, from engineering to astrophysics, and John seemed to soak up the information like a sponge. If not for the fact that he had already graduated Starfleet Academy, Jim would have encouraged him to attend. He knew Bones was smart, having written several lauded papers on medical techniques, but he hadn’t expected him to have such an intellectual as a child too.

Returning from a half shift on the bridge, Jim found John alone, sitting at the table in their quarters, seemingly once again focused on learning. The boy didn’t even so much at look up at his arrival, completely fixated on the screen of his PADD, which displayed primarily a wall of text, yet another article of sorts. There was a small image to the top of it, a portrait of a person, but Jim couldn’t quite make it out.

“Hey, kid.” Jim spoke up, sliding the door shut being him. “Where’s Spock?”

John jolted at the man’s voice, swiping the page aside before looking up at the Captain. “Hi!” he blurted out, then collected himself. “Sorry. Uh...I told Spock he didn’t need to watch me since I just wanted to read,” he held up the device. “He said he would be in the science lab.”

Again. Of course. Not that he was impatient, but Jim hoped that for all the time the Vulcan was spending there as of late, he was finding at least something on the boy’s past. Other than the ring the day after Bones’ change, Jim had received no further answers, which began to make him think there was nothing to be found. Keeping records during a worldwide nuclear war was not exactly the primary concern of anyone.

At least, given all of John’s studying, Jim didn’t have to worry so much about someone needing to keep an eye on the child all the time, not that anyone had complained. With the way John had settled in though, he highly doubted that the boy even would cause any trouble. His behavior initially had been solely from fear and confusion and nothing else and they had come a long way since that in the last few weeks.

“So, what are you reading this time?” Jim inquired.

John looked down at the PADD, before setting it aside. “Um...nothing really. Just reading about teleportation technology and comparing it to the Ark.”

Jim hummed. “From what you’ve told me, transportation through the Ark was pretty rough.” Losing limbs, how fun. It was not to say that transporter accidents didn’t happen, but thankfully they were very rare occurrences nowadays.

“It was,” John confirmed. “Is. From what I understand, the Ark’s a type of temporal anomaly – a wormhole. In comparison, transporters are artificial machines that use a process of matter-energy conversion, breaking down a solid object into energy, and moving it through space.” John frowned. “It doesn’t sound any less dangerous to me. I’d be worried about my atoms being scattered everywhere.”

“It can be dangerous, if you aren’t careful,” acknowledged Jim. “That’s why we learn how to work the technology properly and have security protocols in place, so things like that don’t happen.” Walking over to the replicator, he glanced over at the boy. “Have you had lunch yet?”

“No.” John chewed on his lip. “I’m not really hungry, but I probably should eat something. Before he left, Spock said that wants to meet in the rec room at two and teach me how to play Kal-Toh. He said it’ll help me focus my mind better.”

“Kal-Toh?”

“It’s a Vulcan logic game,” answered John. “The goal is to build an iso...isodec…” he frowned, unable to find the word, “a large shape by placing these little magnetic sticks in the right places. It’s basically like a 3D jigsaw puzzle.”

“Sounds...interesting.” Jim was unsure of what else to say to that. He was unfamiliar with the game, though knowing Vulcans, and the fact it had to do with ‘logic’ and ‘focusing the mind,’ it was probably something incredibly difficult.

Just the sort of thing John seemed to enjoy. Jim was uncertain if the true could be said for Bones, who more often seemed to prefer to be buried in his work over doing extracurricular activities. He actually hoped his friend would continue to spend time interacting with his fellow crewmen upon returning to his correct age. Not only was it healthier than him spending all his time in medbay, Jim was sure Spock would miss their chess games. The Vulcan had actually admitted to him of John being a worthy opponent after their previous session and he was rarely the type to praise anyone.

Replicating two ham sandwiches and some drinks, he sat down at the table and passed one plate over to John along with an orange juice. The boy still seem distracted, staring sideways at the blank screen of the PADD. Reaching over, Jim tugged on a stray curl, causing the boy to wince.

“Might I suggest a shower after you eat?” Jim advised. “If you want to walk around the Enterprise, I don’t recommend doing so in your pajamas.”

John blushed, looking down at his lounge pants. “Sorry. I just got sidetracked.”

“I can see that.” Jim smiled at him. “All this studying though...are you at least enjoying yourself?”

“Yes.” The boy picked up his sandwich. “I’ve learned a lot. And everyone is really nice. I don’t think it’s that bad really…” He took a bite.

“What’s not that bad?”

There was a hum as the boy chewed on the piece in his mouth. Swallowing, he replied, “Being here.”

“I’m glad.” And Jim was, though he wasn’t quite sure what to make of the distant look that suddenly came into John’s eyes. “Spock is still looking into it-”

Another swallow. “I know. Umm...thank you.”

He said no more after that, offhandedly prodding at his PADD while he ate and pulling up another article, this one on Starfleet regulations. Jim had a feeling that he did had done that on purpose, as if questioning why he and the crew were insisting on helping him. Unless he was reading too much into it. With a shake of his head, Jim ate his own sandwich, content to simply observe the child.

John continued to read long after the food was gone and Jim had cleaned up. It wasn’t until he nudged the child and asked when he was supposed to meet up with Spock that John finally put the device down and disappeared into the bathroom in a hurry, the time not even a half hour away. He came out again almost as quickly, his wet hair hanging in ringlets and dripping onto his fresh clothes. “Alright, let’s go!”

Jim blinked, intercepting John before he could reach the door. “Not like that, you aren’t. Come back here.” He placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder, spinning him right back around towards the bathroom. Grabbing the damp towel that John had tossed haphazardly over the shower door, he dropped it over John’s head and began rubbing the boy’s hair dry.

“Ack! Jiiiiimmm!” John protested, but let Jim work until the excess water was gone, his hair now sticking up defiantly in every direction. John wrinkled his nose when he looked into the mirror, letting out a small ‘oof.’ Jim only rolled his eyes in return. Picking up the brush he’d provided for the child, he did his best to tame the unruly brown locks before finally giving the boy a pat on the back.

“Now we may go.” He snorted at the happy cry as John sprang for the door again.

The boy, while well behaved, certainly liked to keep him on his toes. One moment he was being studious and serious, then next energetic and playful. It was odd to see two distinct personalities in the child, but Jim suspected much of that had to do with his upbringing, having to grow up fast between the loss of his parents, judgmental relatives and a war. Having the latter two things absent, John was able to venture out of his shell and actually be a child. Particularly with a Vulcan of all people, even with the man’s nightly presence now. It was the unlikeliest of bonds, but Jim was thankful for it regardless. Spock was also the epitome of patience, seemingly unbothered by John’s need for contact and barrage of questions, which, fortunately, had slowed since he had read numerous files in the database and explored the Enterprise.

“Hi, Spock! Hi, Nyota,” John called out happily when they reached the recreation room they kept reserved. The Vulcan was in the middle of laying out an array of small silver rods around a rust-colored platform where a small shape had already been started. The communications officer was leaned slightly over beside him, listening as he explained the concept of Kal-Toh to her.

They both looked up at hearing John, and Uhura smiled at his exuberance as he all but ran over to them. She pulled him into a quick hug. “Well someone is certainly looking forward to today’s activity.”

“Yes!” John grinned up at her before taking a seat opposite Spock. “It sounded interesting, and I think it’s neat learning about what other cultures do for fun.”

“Plus it’s Spock that’s teaching you,” Jim stated amusedly. John ducked his head, embarrassed.

“I honestly don’t know how you do it,” Uhura told the boy. “You’re learning different languages from me, engineering from Montgomery, cards and star maps from Pavel, botany and fencing from Hikaru, and now this from Spock. How do you even keep track of it all?”

“Sulu is teaching him fencing?” This was news to Jim.

Uhura was surprised. “Oh, he didn’t tell you?”

“Oops,” came John’s reply. At Jim’s concerned expression, he held up his hands. “He’s just teaching me katas, er...forms, I swear!” he insisted, “No actual combat involved.”

“Alright, but only katas.” Jim didn’t want to hear about the John getting hurt. Or, given the boy’s unusual strength, he didn’t want to hear about Sulu getting hurt. John let out a sigh of relief at being allowed to continue his sessions with the helmsman.

“Thanks, Jim!”

“Mm-hmm.” The Captain glanced over at Spock, who had been surprisingly quiet the entire time. The Vulcan appeared uncharacteristically out of sorts, his brows furrowed as if deep in thought. Feeling the other man’s eyes on him, Spock’s gaze lifted from the table to meet Jim’s. There was a sort of sadness there that Jim was surprised to see, but when Spock turned his attention towards John, it was gone, replaced instead with something more akin to understanding and respect.

“If I may take my leave for a moment, I wish to speak to the Captain,” he informed John and Uhura.

If she suspected anything wrong, she didn’t show it. “Alright, Spock. I’ll just re-explain the game to John then.”

Spock gave a nod before standing up and approaching Jim.

“Is everything okay, Spock?”

Though his face betrayed no obvious emotion, Spock’s shoulders slumped ever so slightly. “Do you have time later this evening? There are some things I wish to discuss with you.” He turned his head, fixating his eyes on the child, before looking back at Jim.

Oh. The research into John’s background. Spock had found something after all. Yet, from the Vulcan’s demeanor, it wasn’t the best of news. Coming out of mankind’s greatest war though, Jim knew better than to expect it to be. There was something else there, however, if it was enough to rattle his stoic first officer.

“I’m free after dinner,” Jim said. “Around 1900 at the observation deck? John will be with Scotty at that time.”

Spock tipped his head. “That is acceptable. I shall see you then.”

At Jim’s nod, he returned to the table, where Uhura was telling John that the magnetic rods were called t’an. Jim watched them for a few moments, listening as Spock followed up explaining that the concept of the game was about finding order in the midst of chaos. With John struggling with meditation, he understood now why Spock had chosen such a game to teach him. With a week left until John’s supposed return to his adult self though, he wondered if there was a point to it. Then again, with Bones’ gruff and snappy nature, perhaps the man had never truly learned to cope with the struggles of his past and the teachings could potentially help him with that.

He smiled gently upon seeing John’s face glowing with happiness. Not that he didn’t want his friend back, prickly temper and all, but he couldn’t help but think that he would miss this. There was something about the presence of a carefree child onboard that just seemed to brighten everyone’s mood. Even with the majority of the crew unable to directly interact with him, he could still see the warmth in their eyes at seeing him practically skipping through the corridors of the ship. While the Enterprise was the largest ship in the fleet, he suddenly felt rather saddened that it wasn’t even larger. The idea of having families aboard had a certain appeal to it, especially if Starfleet had other years-long missions planned in the future.

Or maybe not, he thought, wincing as a few previous missions surfaced in his mind. Not this ship anyway. The Enterprise did not exactly have the best track record when it came to getting into dangerous situations. Which was not his fault. Not entirely anyway.

All they could do was enjoy it while it lasted, he supposed.

Seeing as John was going to be preoccupied for some time, Jim decided to return to the bridge. However, during the entirely of his time there, he found himself unable to tear his thought away from the child, ever wondering exactly what it was that Spock had uncovered during his investigation. He partly wondered if he was thinking too much into it, and there was nothing substantial to report. On the other hand, with flashes of emotion breaking through his first officer’s control, there had to be something notable after all.

Time seemed to pass slowly until he was due to meet with Spock. After the end of Alpha shift, he found himself simply wandering the halls, checking in on numerous departments to see if everything was running as smoothly as it should. Still full from lunch, and anxiety spoiling whatever appetite he might have had, he decided to forgo dinner and went to the Observation Deck early, gazing out the view port at the stars passing by.

If Spock noted his nervousness when he arrived right at their scheduled meeting time, he made no comment on it. He took a seat right beside the head of the table, passing the PADD in his hand over to Jim.

“I must apologize, Captain, that I have not gotten back to you before now,” Spock said regretfully. “I wanted to be as thorough as possible and ensure I had a complete report on John Grimm before approaching you.”

“So you did find something.” Jim cringed inwardly at how pleased he sounded as he picked up the device.

Spock hesitated. “I...did. The situation however is far more serious than we could have anticipated.”

Jim frowned, staring at the blank screen. “How serious?”

The emotion in Spock’s eyes was unreadable, yet Jim couldn’t help but shiver. Turing the PADD on, Jim began to read, and with each word, the growing pit of dread in his stomach only became larger.

Chapter Text

Olduvai.

Jim already knew some of the facility’s background, having been told as much by John himself.

A temporal anomaly, formally called the Ark, had been discovered in the year 2016 in Nevada’s Mojave Desert, which was found to be a direct route to the surface of Mars. It allowed for a presence to be established far earlier on the planet than what was established in official Federation records, though Jim wasn’t sure exactly why this was unless the files had been too fragmented to verify the authenticity. The research facility was constructed in 2026 around a dig site, just mere months prior to the start of World War III.

Spock’s notes verified that John’s parents had been among the first to be assigned there, and that they had died two years later in 2028 when the dig site had collapsed. The facility remained shut down until 2032, which then coincided with the records of the first manned mission to Mars. The Union Aerospace Corporation reportedly invested millions into re-opening the site, which made Jim question how they could spare so much money for simple archaeological studies in the middle of a nuclear war.

Unless, it wasn’t just archaeology. No...there was something else.

“There is some information I wish to tell you, Captain, that I felt imperative not to leave in a digital record.”

Jim set the PADD down. “More on John, or Olduvai?”

“Both.” Spock paused. “Admittedly though, I was unable to verify it with official records. However, with what I was able to piece together between what I found in Starfleet’s database and the information obtained from John himself, I feel there is no other logical conclusion.”

He turned silent, and Jim realized that his first officer was waiting for his permission. “Go on.”

Spock clasped his hands behind his back. “I further analyzed the additional chromosome in the blood samples taken by Doctor M’Benga,” he continued, “And while I am still uncertain how exactly the Telarians altered his age, I did discover that John is not as alien as we initially believed. He was not born this way. He was made.”

“Made?” Jim sputtered. “What do you mean ‘made?’ Like...he was created in some laboratory test tube?”

“Negative. Upon further analysis of his blood, I have determined that his base genome is indeed human. At some point in his life, he was exposed to the additional chromosome, which I have concluded to be primarily artificial, not natural, in nature.”

“Meaning...what exactly? Human experimentation?”

“To be precise, I believe he is the result of another attempt to create an augmented human.”

Jim went rigid in his seat. “You’re saying he’s like Khan?”

Spock frowned slightly. “In a way, but vastly different. Unlike humanity’s previous manipulations of their own cells, the source for Doctor McCoy’s alteration appears to have originated from alien DNA.”

“Found on Mars,” guessed Jim.

“Most likely. During my initial meld with him, I did see humanoid remains in a laboratory setting. It would also explain the UAC’s expansive financial backing of the facility throughout most of the war.”

That certainly did explain that part. “I’m guessing he didn’t volunteer for this.”

“Possibly, but I find it unlikely, particularly given this.” Spock reached over and swiped the screen of the PADD to reveal a fragmented article.

“...Olduvai reported a level five security breach and went into lock down,” Jim read the file aloud. “They requested that military agency Simcon send in one of their elite special operations teams and the R.R.T.S.6 was dispatched-” He paused. “R.R.T.S.6.” His head snapped up at the Vulcan in shock. “Bones was in the military? And not even as a regular officer, but special forces?”

“It would appear so.” Raising a brow, he stated, “The doctor has always defied my expectations of him, behaving in ways I can never anticipate. He also has the habit of placing himself purposefully in danger in order to protect others, despite his status as essential personnel. For him to have been a soldier seems...logical.”

Jim tried to wrap his head around that idea. It was such a foreign concept to him. Bones, who had nearly failed the academy’s basic combat class, who’s hands had so delicately pieced back together so many crewmen over the years...that same Bones was apparently also a hardened man, who had fought in one of the greatest wars mankind had ever endured, who had no doubt taken just as many lives as he now saved.

The image of the grim reaper made all more sense now to Jim, even if he did find the concept rather disturbing at the same time.

“So this team he was on was the one sent to Olduvai then,” he mused. “I doubt he was happy about that, seeing as his parents died there.”

“Agreed. I presume he also held reservations about his sister being employed there.”

“Sam went to work there?” Jim asked incredulously.

“A Samantha Grimm was on the list of stationed personnel I found for that date,” Spock confirmed. “After the breach, she was listed as the sole survivor.”

Jim returned his attention to the device. The breach. Whatever catastrophic event it had been had, in less than a day, resulted in the deaths of the two hundred and seven individuals that had been posted between the site on Mars and the Ark facility back on Earth. Which begged the question, what exactly had the breach been that had managed to spread to Earth. Radiation or a virus was a possibility, but military intervention was not called upon for such things.

The notes grew thin after that. Olduvai was shut down once again after that day, and within the span of a few years, UAC itself faded into obscurity. There were a few additional notes regarding John’s sister, Samantha. After the end of the war, she had apparently gone on to become a renowned scientist working for the United Earth Space Probe Agency until her death in 2098. The same agency that would eventually go on to become Starfleet.

Jim set the PADD down. “Any ideas as to what caused the breach?”

“The official statement was that the nuclear power core of the station was sabotaged by an employee.”

There was something unspoken there. “And unofficially?”

“The monsters in John’s dreams.” That certainly had not been along the answers Jim had been expecting. “While initially I presumed them to be figments of his imagination, I no longer believe that to be the case.” Spock’s dark eyes flickered, a turmoil of emotions beneath the surface. It was the first time he had brought them up to Jim since that first night he’d melded with John. Jim still did not know what exactly these monsters were, but it was becoming more and more apparent that they were nothing good.

Spock seemed to sense this, and slowly reached out a hand. “I can show you, if you wish.”

No, it wasn’t a wish, but rather a need to understand, so Jim leaned forward, allowing the Vulcan’s fingers to bush against his temples…

And he recoiled nearly as quickly at seeing a massive fleshy beast lunge at him, pointed teeth snarling and stained with blood.

“This?” he sat back, breathless. “This is what John’s been dreaming about every night?”

“Yes. Among other things.” Spock withdraw his hand. “I did not wish to pry into his mind, so I only know what I have seen from attempting to locate his consciousness. I believe them to be the result of the 24^th chromosome mutating within a host. At some point, John himself was exposed to it, but in his case, the chromosome successfully fused to to his genetic code as it was designed to.”

“Designed to? And what exactly were they hoping for?”

“From my own research, and what I have gleaned from his memories, it’s purpose was to create a new life form,” Spock told him. “One with superior speed, strength, intelligence, near instantaneous healing, and significantly slowed aging, if not stopped the aging process altogether. Essentially, immortality.”

Immortality. The dream of many lifeforms, and if Spock was correct, it had essentially been achieved.

However, if the creature he’d seen was anything to go by, the consequences of that same dream were...astronomical.

“Shit.”

There was a low hum of agreement. “For lack of a better word...yes.”

Jim slumped further in his seat. “So Bones...he’s been alive...all these years?”

There was the sad look in Spock’s eyes again. “I believe so, yes. There are fragments of memories I have seen, of times after the war, of society on Earth being rebuilt and the technological advancements beyond that of the time he was born into. The only explanation would be that he was there to witness it personally.”

Well, that certainly explained a lot about the man. Unfazed by alcohol apparently, yet he drank it anyway. Grumpiness and snark his general mood, a perpetual mask of bitterness that seemed to only crack when he was around those he considered friends. Jim had always just attributed his attitude as stemming from his failed divorce, and while that may not have helped, he realized that it was actually coming from the years, the decades of everything he’d experienced. The war, the loss of his family and his team, his own literal alienation and the weight of a secret that could potentially destroy all life as they knew it; and the loneliness that obviously came as a result of that.

Bones hadn’t just been protecting himself. He’d been protecting all of them.

Try as he might, he could feel tears welling up and he squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt to keep them at bay. He leaned forward, propping his elbows onto the table and burying his face in his hands.

Bones, who had endured so much and yet still found the strength to keep moving forward. A soldier. A doctor. Countless other lives of who knew what else.

Above all, his friend.

“No one can find out about this, Spock,” Jim said finally, raising his head. “You keep this out of your reports. That’s an order. If the wrong people got wind of this...”

“I would not, even if you had not ordered it,” Spock declared firmly. Seeing Jim’s surprise, he provided an explanation. “Given the past situation regarding Admiral Marcus, I admit I found my trust in the Federation shaken. The former admiral did not accumulate his expansive resources all on his own, as he himself stated as much by his mention of a Section 31. Considering the exploitation of Khan Noonien Singh, there is no doubt in my mind they would experiment on Doctor McCoy should they learn of his unique genetics.”

Jim found it oddly reassuring that he had not been the only one to question Starfleet after that time. Spock was not wrong in the slightest. Section 31, the mystery organization behind Admiral Marcus’ venture, were an anomaly in and of themselves. A dangerous one at that, seeing as Marcus had had no qualms about killing hundreds of innocent people and starting a war with the Klingons in order to obtain what he wanted.

Someone like Bones, whose DNA was special, they would not care about the morality of their actions nor his rights as a living being.

“Do you plan on informing the others?” Spock asked him. “They have already been sworn to secrecy regarding his identity.”

“Should I?” Jim questioned back. “I know they’re curious to know more about who John Grimm really is, and how he came to be on board the Enterprise, but this…” He flipped a hand towards the PADD. “I...I really don’t know, Spock. It’s a lot to take in.”

“That is true,” the Vulcan admitted, “however, it would also serve to help them better understand who he is as a person and just how much he has given up of himself, living the life he has thus far.” Spock’s lips dipped into a frown. “Humans were not meant to live such long lives, let alone a solitary one. If he were to have our support and acceptance, perhaps, at least for the time he is here, he would understand what it means to have a true home.”

For the time he is here… Jim closed his eyes momentarily. If Bones was indeed immortal, eventually he would have to move on. The very idea itself was painful to consider, that his friend would always need to be on the move, never staying too long in one place. “Is there...a way to reverse the effects? Remove the additional chromosome?”

Spock pondered the question. “I do not know. From the sample I have been studying, the chromosome appears to be thoroughly fused to his genome, and given his medical expertise, I believe this is something he may have already looked into himself if he has indeed looked for a cure. However,” Spock straightened, a spark of determination in his eyes, “if he is willing, I may perhaps be able to provide additional insight on the subject with further research. I believe the human phrase is ‘two sets of eyes are better than one?’”

“Something like that,” Jim replied. The real question however was, what did Bones want?

The week remaining until his purported return felt further away than ever.

“We should take him flying again,” Scotty suggested.

“But he haz already done zat,” Chekov replied. He hummed. “Vat about visiting a planet? Riza iz nice zis time of year.”

Scotty grinned. “Now that’s an idea, laddie!”

“No,” replied Sulu. “We’re too far from Risa. Besides, what’s a kid supposed to do besides lounge on the beach? He’s too young to drink.”

Scotty shrugged. “I mean, technically…”

“No, don’t even think about it,” Uhura interjected. “Besides, we can’t make large course changes without Starfleet’s approval.”

“True.” Sulu nodded in agreement. “Hmm...should we throw him a party instead?”

“I zought hiz birthday was in March?”

“Does it have to be for a birthday?”

“No, but shouldn't we have a reason?” Uhura inquired.

“We have one!” Sulu protested.

“Nyet.” Chekov shook his head.

“We need one John would understand,” Uhura spoke up from beside the young navigator. At Sulu’s look, she added, “One that won’t traumatize him.”

“Da,” Chekov agreed. “Besides, ze doez not like too many people around.”

Scotty frowned. “Maybe if we kept it small? Just us?”

“Still need a reason,” insisted Uhura. “He’s a smart kid. He’s going to want to know why...”

The four mildly bickered back and forth about what to do with John in order to make the time remaining memorable. Jim couldn’t help the soft snort that escaped him, rolling his eyes upward to the ceiling. Deciding to go long with what Spock had suggested, he had gathered up the other the following day and informed them of everything he had been told. Initially, they had appeared skeptical, but as he’d continued to explain, that skepticism had turned into shock, then sadness, before finally settling into a fierce determination to protect John.

Maybe protect him too much, since Uhura had mentioned wanting to bundle the boy up and hide him away from the dangers of the universe, and the others nodding in agreement. She added then that she was only joking of course, but Jim vaguely wondered about that.

There was the whoosh of the door sliding open, and the child in question stepped inside, Spock right behind him. The Vulcan tipped ever so slightly, catching himself when John stopped abruptly in front of him when he noticed the rest of the crew present in the recreation room. “Oh...hello, everyone. Are we...interrupting something?”

They raised their hands. “No!”

“Not at all, laddie,” Scotty waved him over. “We were just talking about you.”

Uhura winced.

“You…were?” John’s brow scrunched up with concern.

“All good things!” Chekov reassured him.

“O...kay.” Still unsure, John resumed his steps, heading over to the table near them where the incomplete Kal-Toh was set up. Spock took a seat on one side, casting a questioning glance towards the others. John rested his hand on the back of his own chair. Instead of sitting however, his eyes flicked between each of the adults, who were just standing and fidgeting in front of him. “...Why is everyone looking at me like that?”

“Like what?” Jim asked, moving beside him.

The boy frowned. “Like I’m gonna break.”

“What? No, no, everything’s good.” He turned to the rest of the crew. “Right?”

“Oh...o-of course!” Uhura said hurriedly at Jim’s insistent expression.

“Er, what-” Sulu broke off with a slight hiss as Uhura’s elbow caught him in the ribs. “Right. Yes! Everything’s fine.”

“We were jus’ worried you getting bored, laddie,” Scotty answered quickly. “Hanging out with us grown ups cannae be that much fun for you.”

“I’m not bored,” John replied, dubious. “I’m in the future. In space. What’s there to be bored about?”

“Ah...good point,” Scotty conceded.

“If anything, I thought maybe you all were getting tired of me,” John said finally.

The outcry was immediate. “What, no! Never!”

“Why would you even think that?” Uhura asked. “Did something we do upset you or-?”

“No. No, nothing like that,” John said more firmly. “Just...I looked at Starfleet’s current regulations, and outside of emergency evacuations or the transportation of political and foreign dignitaries, long term residency aboard Constitution class starships is for registered personnel only.”

“Uh...yes, that’s correct,” Jim answered. “Usually.” Was the boy really citing regulation at him? “But three weeks isn’t-”

“Long term residency is classified as any period of time extending past fourteen days,” John stated matter-of-factly.

“Well, your case is-”

John interrupted him. “According to regulations, I should have been dropped off at the nearest Starbase for them to figure out my...temporal displacement.” He gave Jim a stern look. “But I’m beginning to think that you don’t always follow regulation.”

Uhura snorted at that statement.

Spock lifted a brow, sparing a look at Jim. “He is not wrong.”

Jim scowled at the both of them. “You’re being too serious,” he told the boy. “Can you just believe us when we say we like spending time with you? No one here has any problem with you being on the Enterprise.”

“Nyet,” said Chekov. “I like our card gamez.”

“Even if we always lose,” remarked Scotty.

“Da!”

“You being here is certainly a welcome break from the monotony,” Sulu added. “Plus, it’s nice having someone around who doesn’t mind me rambling on for hours about plants.”

John’s lips turned downwards. “Alright. Fine. Doesn’t mean I understand it though. Won’t you get in trouble if someone reports this?”

Reaching out, Jim poked John in the side. “Lighten up. Let the adults worry about things, okay?”

John squirmed. “Ack! Okay.” He still looked glum.

Jim poked him again, this time eliciting a small giggle.

I’ll be damned. Three weeks in, and he was just finding out that the boy was ticklish. Unable to help himself, Jim did it again, this time catching the child on his other side too.

“S-stop it!” John choked out before dissolving into full-blown laughter, releasing the chair in favor of holding his sides as Jim attacked him relentlessly.

“Wonderful,” Uhura muttered, though her eyes twinkled in amusement. “We now have two children on board.”

“S-Spock, save me!” John managed to tear himself away and scurried to the opposite side of the Vulcan, who merely raised an eyebrow at their antics. Seeing that he wasn’t getting any assistance there, the boy ducked underneath the table and clambered out the other side in order to evade Jim.

The rest of the crew only stifled their laughs as Jim chased the child around the room, the boy realizing they would not stop their Captain. Around and around they went, before Jim eventually snagged a hold of John’s black shirt. Jim wrapped his arms around John, ignoring the ache in his ribs as the boy’s elbows jabbed him in his wiggling.

“No more!” John gasped out in between his laughter.

“You gonna stop acting like an adult?”

Stilling in the man’s grip, John hiccuped as he tried to catch his breath. “So mean.”

“I’m not mean,” Jim protested.

“This...is so childish.”

“Yeah, so-?” Jim gently turned the child around by the shoulders and knelt down in front of him. “You are a child. And there’s absolutely nothing wrong with acting like one either. Besides, life wouldn’t be much fun if all we did was act serious all the time.”

“If I may, Captain, work productivity would be more efficient-”

“The exception being Spock apparently,” Jim stated, cutting the Vulcan off with a roll of his eyes.

John gave a small smile at that, but his eyes seemed distant. “Is it really okay?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Uhura asked gently from behind Jim. “Did someone tell you it wasn’t?”

The image of Spock carrying an exhausted John popped into Jim’s mind. “Is it because of something your aunt said?”

The boy winced slightly, but didn’t answer.

With a sigh, Jim pulled him into a hug. “No matter what anyone else may have told you, know that we care about you. You deserve to be loved. Don’t ever let anyone tell you otherwise.”

There was a hum of agreement from the others.

John stiffened momentarily, then relaxed, leaning into him. “Thank you,” the boy mumbled into his ear.

“For what?” Jim asked in return.

“Just...for everything.”

There was a slight nagging sensation in the back of Jim’s mind that the boy was referring to something other than his family relations and his current surroundings, but he decided not to press the child for details. He figured that the John would tell him in his own time.

“Anytime, kiddo,” he replied softly into the child’s dark locks. “Anytime.”

Chapter Text

In an effort to make the most of the time remaining with John as a child, the crew ended up throwing a small party after all. As they’d suspected, he’d wanted a reason, seeing as it was not his birthday, nor could they give him the excuse of a Federation holiday as he had been quite thorough in his studies. It wasn’t something they were proud of, but after prying further details out of their Captain regarding the boy’s relatives, they ultimately decided to use John’s aunt to explain their actions. They informed John that they wanted to show him that, despite her believing him to be a problem child, he was deserving of affection and love and that he was not at fault for what happened at Olduvai.

Both as a child and as an adult was left unsaid.

To their relief, John accepted this explanation. He then surprisingly admitted to them that he’d never had a party before, telling them that his parents had never really gone out of their way for birthdays or holidays before, particularly after moving to Mars. A cake, typically (at least prior to living on Mars, he’d added), and a few gifts, generally in the form of something practical, like clothes or a book. Not that he or his sister had ever minded, but he found the differences between the events to be quite nice. It was oddly comforting to find so many people, not related to him in any way, going out of their way so make him feel at home.

Granted, he still inadvertently ended up with practical items due to the programming limitations of the ship’s replicators, but John had no complaints.

On top of their chosen gifts, the crew had managed to procure a small vanilla cake from the food synthesizer and, to Jim’s surprise, Uhura and Sulu had put together a collection of classical music from the 21^st century. With some assistance from Scotty, they got the tunes to play through the rec room’s built in speakers and they all noted when John liked or recognized a song when he idly tapped his foot along to the beat as they sat around the center table, chatting and dealing cards for poker.

Eventually, he stepped away to grab himself another dessert from the food synthesizer and relocated to the side to watch further games. Jim, having no luck, took a seat beside him, watching him eat.

There was a small sigh of contentment from the boy as he stuck his spoon into the bowl of strawberry ice-cream in front of him. He’d tried a number of flavors over the past few weeks, and ultimately found that he enjoyed the pink, fruity dessert the best, both to Jim’s amusement and despair. When John had first offered to share with him, he’d had to politely decline, not wishing to end up in the ship’s medbay. Thinking about how he’d never seen him indulge in the frozen treat, Jim wasn’t sure if John’s adult self had somehow never had the opportunity to try strawberry ice-cream, or if he simply avoided it due to Jim’s severe allergy to the fruit. The latter was certainly something Bones would do. The doctor was fiercely determined to keep the Enterprise’s danger-prone captain away from anything that could inadvertently land him on his exam table.

That last thought alone made Jim fidget in his seat. While he had managed to keep himself out of trouble the past few weeks, the only exception being the rather nasty bruises the boy had accidentally given him, Jim was certain his friend would be marching him straight down to the medical facility as soon as he was back to normal. The doctor had wanted to check him out after their leave to Telaris concluded, and though M’Benga was as fine a doctor as any, Bones had always preferred being the one to oversee all of Jim’s medical needs. Never mind that Jim had been good and had actually, willingly gotten checked out even with his friend’s presently miniaturized state, but Bones just never seemed to trust anyone else’s judgment on the captain’s health save his own.

If Bones’ keen sense of smell was anything to go by, it certainly made sense. Even the most sophisticated tools could malfunction or miss something obvious. And in instances where equipment happened to be unavailable, having such a trait had it’s perks. Jim was definitely not envious though. In medicine, scents were in no short supply, particularly the bitter, sharp tang of antiseptic. It was one of the reasons he hated being in sickbay in the first place. How Bones’ managed to tolerate it with his enhanced senses was beyond him.

However he did it, Jim would be most relieved once his friend was back in his office and being his usual grumpy self. He liked the kid, truly, but things just weren’t the same. Even Spock had brought up the drop in the crew’s work efficiency in the past few weeks with Bones’ absence. Five point something or other percent, the commander had informed him. It was such a ridiculously small amount that Jim half suspected his first officer had made that one up, not actually wanting to admit that he missed the other man as well, even if they appeared to bicker more than anything else.

Continuing watching the boy savor each bite of ice-cream though, he did hope that at the very least, that Bones would be more laid back, given everything that had transpired, and not close himself off even further. Or run away. Hopefully not, but Jim had no way to know for sure. If it had just been Leonard McCoy as Leonard McCoy, sure, he’d figured he had understood the man well enough, but instead he was dealing with Leonard McCoy being John Grimm or rather John Grimm being Leonard McCoy, so he wasn’t certain about anything at all.

He just hoped that this, with the little party, and everything up until this point, was proof enough to John that they cared about him, regardless of his secrets and unique abilities. They weren’t afraid of him, or what he could do, or the position knowing the truth about him could potentially put them in with outside forces.

All that mattered was...him. Their fellow crewman. Their friend.

Catching him staring, the boy swallowed what was in his mouth. “Do you...want me to get you a bowl?” He glanced at his dish, “Er, chocolate? Can you eat that?”

“Nah, I’m good,” Jim gave a small smile. “Just thinking.”

“Thinking,” John repeated. “You do that a lot lately,” he pointed out. “And here you run after me for thinking too much.”

“I think we’ve been over this already,” Jim replied.

“Mmhmm,” John hummed. “Right.” He waved his spoon. “You sure you don’t want some ice-cream?”

“Are you going to keep asking until I eat some?”

“Yes,” answered the boy. “Only because it’s kind of weird you sitting here watching me eat when you don’t have anything for yourself.”

“Alright, alright,” Jim caved, “if you insist. And chocolate is fine, please.”

John stood up, then looked over to where Spock also simply observing the ongoing poker game, looking over Uhura’s shoulder. “Should I ask Spock too? I know he’s vegetarian, but does he eat sweets?”

“He does.” While rare, Jim had seen the Vulcan consume desserts before. “Why do you ask?”

“He didn’t have any cake,” John pointed out, “or anything else for that matter, so I thought maybe he’d want some.”

“You can try,” Jim shrugged. “I can’t promise he’ll eat it, but maybe if it’s from you, he will.” Spock had certainly done a number of things he wouldn’t have normally where John was involved. As the boy stood up to walk back towards the replicator, Jim blinked as he remembered something and latched onto John’s sleeve. “Not chocolate!”

“Wait, don’t tell me Spock has allergies too?” John looked alarmed. “Over two hundred years in the future and no one was figured out the cure for that yet?”

“Not that…” How to explain this one? “Um...chocolate does funny things to Vulcans.”

“Funny...things…?” A quipped brow was the response. “What does that even mean?”

Jim idly scratched at his ear, feeling rather sheepish. “Do you know what alcohol does to people?”

“Yeah, I think so,” John replied. “Too much and they say and do things they wouldn’t normally, but what’s that got to do with-? Oh.” John stopped. “Really?” He started laughing. “I thought there was nothing that could make him act anything other than serious and it’s chocolate of all things?”

“Well, and the usual alcohol of course, though I’ve yet to see a drunk Vulcan.” Jim saw the spark of mischievousness in the boy’s eyes. “Don’t even think about it,” he said sternly. “Please...just...get him anything other than chocolate.”

“Aww…” Jim pursed his lips and John gave a defeated sigh. “Okay, fine, I won’t.” he replied sullenly, then smiled again before continuing on his way.

Giving a shake of his head, Jim huffed a laugh. He knew John wouldn’t actually do anything, even if he acted like he might at times. True to his word, the boy walked over to Spock and held out a bowel of what appeared to be vanilla, which the Vulcan took after a few moments of hesitation. Uhura looked up, saying something that Jim failed to hear over the music, but she then smiled as Spock tightened his grip on the bowel and scooped a small spoonful of ice-cream into his mouth.

His offering accepted, John flashed a bright grin before turning away, and Jim watched curiously as the happy expression slipped into something more akin to weariness. He blinked, and it was gone again as John moseyed around the table and interacted with the others. The boy was probably feeling anxious again, despite everyone’s reassurances otherwise. He wasn’t sure what he could do to assuage John’s concerns beyond what they’d all already tried.

At least that was something that the boy had in common with his adult self, even if it was a rather regrettable habit to have. Bones had always seemed to be worrying about something, and was always the first to bring up worst case scenarios to him in every situation, especially where Jim was concerned. Turns out, it was a part of who Bones actually was as a person.

There was something else as well, though Jim didn’t recall this particular trait until later.

Bones had always been quite observant. Perhaps even too observant.

Turns out, child Bones was no different.

Jim wasn’t entirely sure what had made everything come together, but he was relieved when it finally did, even if he hadn’t exactly prepared himself for it. It had been another day, and though everyone rearranged their schedules to spend as much time with John as they could, there was still work to be done and a ship to manage, so the boy had been left to his own devices for several hours. Not unusual as of late, though when Jim and Spock went to collect him for dinner, a routine they’d established to doing with the boy, they’d surprisingly found him absent from their shared quarters and the rec room.

The pair ended up finding him alone in the back corner of the observation deck, perched on window seat with his feet up and gazing out at the stars passing by. The bear Pavel had given him was in his lap, his fingers gently twisting a fuzzy ear. The image made Jim smile. Despite the boy’s reservations about the toy at first, Jim noted that John felt a sense of comfort with it, having found it’s own place at night alongside Jim and Spock to help keep his anxiety down, though it was the first time Jim was seeing him with the plush outside of their shared quarters. Something about ‘not wanting to be seen as a baby’ by the rest of the crew.

Not that he would inform the other’s adult self of this, but Jim had found the image so endearing, that he’d managed to snag an image with his PADD of John snuggled up with the bear in his sleep.

If John noticed their entrance, he made no indication of it, though he didn’t react beyond a cursory glance when Jim sank down onto the cushioned bench beside him. Jim noted the rather gloomy demeanor the boy was giving off.

“You’re doing it again,” he remarked.

“Doing what?” came the flat response.

“Being all serious.”

John huffed. “Eh...so what if I am?” He winced marginally at his own words, likely realizing he sounded rather rude, but continued staring out at the stars passing by.

“You appear upset,” Spock stated. “Did something happen?”

“Yes,” John replied. “No.” His shoulders sank. “I don’t know.”

Confused, Jim started to ask for John to elaborate, but the boy gave a furious shake of his head. He was silent for a moment. Then his next words gave Jim and Spock pause. “I know why I’m here.” He turned his body around, away from the window. “It’s me, isn’t it? I’m the reason I’m here.”

Spock was the first to respond, tilting his head. “I do not understand your meaning.”

“So you know, my hearing is also really good.” John looked up towards the Vulcan. “Even after I pointed it out, I’ve heard you and the others repeatedly bring up a Bones...this...Leonard McCoy, when speaking about me in the same sentence,” he said, hazel eyes flicking between the two adults, his face unreadable. “I’ve noticed the slip-ups when you all talk to me, though they aren’t as bad now. I’ve seen the surprise, the...sadness…in everyone’s faces. And...it’s not just because I’m some random kid from the twenty-first century, is it?”

Oh, Jim thought. He’d assumed John had missed that, given that he hadn’t noticed the boy reacting to it, but apparently not.

“That is...a most reasonable deduction,” Spock responded cautiously, uncertain of whether or not he should confirm the boy’s statement. He looked to Jim, but John noted his hesitation and continued.

“There’s also the complete lack of restrictions on the information I’m allowed to see,”
the boy stated, “and the fact that no one is bothered about explaining to me and ins and outs of the Enterprise and Star Fleet. ‘Logically,’” he stressed, “I shouldn’t be allowed to view a lot of it because of how knowledge of the future in the hands of a time traveler would alter the timeline, right? But...I’m not a time traveler, am I? There is no returning home to two-thousand twenty-eight because...I already am home.” He turned to Jim, his face serious. “Am I wrong?”

“No. No, you’re not,” Jim admitted after a moment’s hesitation.

“You made me believe that I was centuries out of my own time. Why didn’t any of you say anything?” John asked, almost accusing.

“Would you’ve believed us if we had?” was the return inquiry.

The boy mulled it over. “No. Probably not. Though it wouldn’t have been any more crazy sounding than being on a spaceship in the future.” He played idly with the plush toy in his hands. “I….I didn’t understand it at first, but over time everything just sort of came together. Everyone’s confusion. The slip of the name. How much everyone seemed to care about me. The lack of concern over how much I learned about the future. Not to mention all my strange abilities and the dreams.” When he lifted his eyes again, they were dark with unshed tears. “Sam. She was older, but...I know it was her. She gave me something. Said it was the only way to save me. I think...I think I was dying.” He frowned. “Maybe I did die. I don’t know. But then I woke up and I was different. Stronger. I could fight off the monsters then.” John turned to look at the Vulcan. “Does that make me a monster too?”

“No,” came the soft reply. “It does not.”

“Never.” Jim reached out to the boy, and John let himself be drawn into a hug, finally giving into his emotions.

“I miss my parents. I...I miss Sam.” John wept into Jim’s gold shirt. “And to think that I…I’ll never ever see her again…” He broke down completely. Jim tightened his hold on the boy, whispering gentle words in his ear as he cried.

Spock bowed his head and reached out a hand, resting it upon the boy’s tousled hair. “I grieve with thee,” he said quietly.

John only cried louder.

This time it was Jim who carried the child back to their quarters. Not that there was much time remaining with their young ward, but he hoped it would be the last time he’d have to witness John so heartbroken. While M’Benga assured him that there didn’t seem to be any ill effects, Jim was certain that the amount of stress the boy had on his shoulders was far from healthy. Perhaps it was needed though, for John to fall apart, to come to terms with everything now that it was out in the open. Jim couldn’t help but think that Bones had never given himself the opportunity to do so, instead keeping it pent up inside like so many other things.

It actually left Jim feeling rather ill. While some might call it a blessing, he felt that immortality was greatly overrated. What was life, if not to grow old with loved ones? Bones had had to watch everyone he cared about die, while he...couldn’t. It didn’t seem fair at all.

They managed to rouse the boy long enough to get some food into him, and John promptly crawled into bed, still too distraught to do much else. Though he obviously had some memory of his sister being older, at least in his dreams, or nightmares really, most of what John recalled was centered around the age of ten. That meant that, from his perspective, he’d lost both his parents and his sibling just a month apart.

Thankfully, so weary from his distress, John had little problem falling and staying asleep that night, though Spock continued to remain alert by his side. By morning, while still upset, particularly about his sister, John was considerably more at ease. As it turned out, finding out the truth about himself had been the thing weighing the most heavily on his mind. John decided to show Jim what he’d been studying the most on his PADD, and it turned out to be the personnel file on...well…himself. Of course, it hadn’t been all that difficult to put two and two together when John had failed to find Leonard McCoy aboard the ship to ask the man questions after the child had repeatedly been addressed as him. When John been given the device and unrestricted access, Jim really hadn’t thought that he would actually notice the slip-ups enough to go investigating into it. That was on Jim, not that he was upset that John knew the entire truth now. He actually felt like kicking himself really, for treating John so much like the child he currently appeared to be, when in fact he was so much more than that.

Jim could see why he did however, when John decided to thrown yet another unneeded apology his way, much to his chagrin.

“I’m sorry,” John spoke suddenly from where he sat at the edge of the bed.

“For what?” Jim asked, his words slightly muffled as he finished tugging his shirt over his head.

“For acting like a baby.”

Jim adjusted his sleeves and looked at the boy. “What do you mean?”

“Well…” John lifted up the bear in his hands. “This...and um…” he ducked his head, “not sleeping in my own bed.”

“It’s fine,” Jim insisted.

“I’m supposed to be an adult though,” the boy retorted. “So I should act like one.”

That made Jim frown. “But are you?”

“Huh?”

He sat down next to the boy. “I’m asking if you’re an adult right now.”

“Well, no, but…”

“Do you remember being an adult?” Jim asked.

John shrugged. “Not...really.”

“Then you don’t need to act like one,” Jim assured him. “It’s okay being a child.”

“Are you sure?”

In response, Jim tickled John under his arm, making the boy squawk. “Yes. Now, you ready to go? Spock should be back any minute.” As had become habit, every morning the Vulcan would return to his quarters and prepare himself for the day, before returning and presenting the schedule for the day regarding John. Or as close to one as they could get. After John’s revelation the night before, Spock had determined that someone should remain with the boy throughout the entire day rather than leaving him on his own, just to ensure he was in a good state of mind, and, of course, had volunteered himself for the task.

“Yep!”

Spock did not return empty-handed, bringing his PADD along with him when he took John down to the rec room where they’d spend the majority of their day. It was almost...illogical, on Spock’s part, but he later informed Jim that it was something he felt that the child needed, even if it did result in a few more tears as a result, albeit not quite as sad as before.

Jim had nearly forgotten about the photo. The only known image of one Samantha Grimm.

Upon Spock showing him, John had recognized her almost immediately and had been both amazed and saddened at the sight of his sister looking so much older than he remembered. Her eyes were the same though he said. Ten years, or forty, they were as bright and determined as ever. Spock ended up needing to transfer the file over to John’s PADD, lest he find himself losing his own over how tightly the boy clutched the device as he reminisced over how much he looked up to his sister despite being only minutes apart in age, about how she’d been the strong one after their parents died.

John tapped another tal on the Kal-Toh, watching it change shape again. The boy had yet to solve the puzzle, but Spock could tell that he was taking great care to place each rod with careful precision. They said nothing for some time, then John blurted out, “What is Doctor McCoy like?”

After having spoken so much about his sister, the question came as somewhat of a surprise. Spock laced his fingers together. “What would you like to know?”

“Umm…” John rolled the tal in his hand around. “I’m not sure. I know he’s me, but…I know nothing about him besides what I’ve read. He’s obviously important to everyone. So...what is he like? As a person, I mean.”

“Doctor McCoy is…” Spock wasn’t quite sure how to answer. The doctor was an enigma? A highly emotional being who wore his heart on his sleeve? A brilliant mind and skilled medical officer? “He is someone is who loyal and puts the needs of others before himself.”

“Huh,” John appeared intrigued, “Well, that’s good, I guess. At least I seem to grow up to be a decent person.”

“Did you presume otherwise?”

“Well, no.” John placed the tal down and the shape changed again. “Not with the way people talked about me...er...him.” He winced. “This is really confusing.”

“Understandable. It is not a frequent occurrence that one has a chance to learn about their future self.” Being able to relate to the situation on some level, Spock had the sudden fleeting thought about how regrettable it was that his alternate self had passed away. He would have liked to ask him if the Leonard McCoy of his reality was anything like this one.

“I suppose that’s true,” John agreed. “And what do you think? Do you like Doctor McCoy as a person?”

Spock paused, then gave a nod. “Yes.” His expression softened and he allowed himself the faintest of smiles. “I am honored to call him my friend.”

Chapter Text

With all the secrets finally come to light, John finally relaxed around them all, no longer having the strange, distant look in his eyes when he thought they weren’t looking. He was still saddened by the absence of his sister, now more than ever, but he found it easier to talk to the crew about it. Uhura in particular understood him the best, for she too had suffered the loss of a sibling in her childhood. It was something Jim was ashamed to say he was not aware of, and decided to make it a point after that to spend more time among his crew to get to know them better.

At least, with the Telarian’s meddling, that was the one positive that had resulted from it. Not just understanding Bones better, but everyone that was involved. They were more than just co-workers to him after all.

They were family.

All of them.

He ended up getting so absorbed in this realization, that he hadn’t actually put too much thought into the day Bones would change back. Apparently, neither had Spock, since they both ended up going to bed with the boy tucked between them with his bear as they had every night for the past few weeks.

When Jim awoke, it was to the sound of rustling blankets and the bed shifting. He somehow managed to restrain himself from jerking his body backwards when he realized he was laying precariously on the very edge of his side of the bed. Not that it would matter if he had judging from the weight pressed up against his back. The bed moved again, and he braced himself with the arm he wasn’t laying on against the edge of the mattress. Was John trying to sneak off to the bathroom? There was another rustle, and a soft grunt, the comforter slowly gliding down him. With a tug, it was down to his feet, then suddenly it was gone, followed by a loud thud on the floor, accompanied with a muffled ‘dammit!’

He shot upright at the deep voice. “Bones?”

Spock had also brought himself into a sitting position and together they watched the rather large pile of fabric in front of the foot of the bed shift around, before the familiar face of the doctor poked out. His face was red. “Umm…Mornin’,” he said sheepishly.

“So...what do you remember?” Jim asked.

“What do I not remember,” the other man groaned, dropping his face into the blanket. There was some incoherent mumbling into the fabric.

“Bones?” Jim asked again.

The doctor cleared his throat audibly before looking back up. He seemed to want to say something, then flushed a deep red, pulling the comforter tighter around himself.

“I know you never planned on telling us,” Jim began to say, “but if you’re worried about-”

Bones interrupted him. “That’s-well...” He shook his head. “I...umm…I’m not...”

Spock cut in. “I believe Doctor McCoy is trying to tell us that he is currently lacking in any suitable attire.”

It was then Jim noticed the small shreds of fabric on the bed, the remnants of the pajamas John had been wearing before falling asleep. He pressed his lips together, managing to maintain a serious expression. Now was certainly not the time to laugh. With all that had happened, Jim hadn’t taken into consideration exactly how his friend would return to his adult self. He really should have known, given how, upon regression, the clothes hadn’t shrunk with Bones. Of course the same would be for the opposite.

The idle thought of ‘ouch’ crossed his mind though.

Bones groaned again, looking like he wanted to disappear. “Let’s never speak of this. Ever,” he ground out. Face red with embarrassment, he clumsily climbed to his feet, still keeping the blanket firmly wrapped around himself and proceeded to shuffle over to Jim’s closet. Snaking an arm out to slide open the door, he grabbed a set of basic blacks, then proceeded to move into the bathroom, cursing under his breath when the comforter got caught in the doorway. With a yank, it disappeared along with him. A moment later, Jim heard the sink running.

Neither him nor Spock made any motion to move from the bed, continuing to listen to Bones move about in the bathroom.

“Do you...think he’ll be okay?” asked Jim.

Spock’s brow rose upwards as it was often prone to do when he was thinking. “The expression ‘okay’ would indicate that there are no problems to report and that his condition is satisfactory. From what I could see of his person and his reaction, there did not appear to be any noticeable side-effects of his age-regression-”

The blonde frowned, giving the other man a cursory, disapproving look. “Spock, that’s not what I meant and you know it.”

There was a momentary pause, then Spock replied, “That would depend upon whether or not he accepts the knowledge that we know his true identity.”

“Do you think he will?”

Spock opened his mouth to reply, but whatever he wanted to say was halted as Bones stepped out again, the comforter discarded on the floor behind him now that he was dressed. Being a slightly larger build than Jim, the clothes were a bit snug on him, evident by the way the man tugged uncomfortably at the collar of the shirt. The front of his hair was damp from where he must have splashed water onto his face, the occasional droplet of water dripping down onto his still reddened cheeks, leading him to look far more agitated than he had before entering the bathroom.

He stood there before them, appearing the most nerve wracked that Jim had even seen him in the nine years that they’d known each other. “I…” Bones began, then stopped, shifting uneasily. He wet his lips and tried again. “Is it too much to hope for that I just dreamed all that up?”

Spock answered first. “If you are referring to your regressed state as a Terran child of ten years-”

“I’ll take that as a ‘no’ then.” Bones pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath. “...Which means...you really were inside my head.”

“Indeed.” Spock inclined his head, a slightly remorseful expression crossing his features. “I apologize for my intrusion, but you were highly distressed most nights and no other methods utilized were effective.”

“That...ugh…” He lowered his hand with a sigh. “So you know. Everything.” It wasn’t a question. “About me. About Olduvai. All of it.”

“Affirmative.”

Bones stiffened, his gaze growing distant as he processed that information. “Dammit.”

“It’s fine. Really, Bones.” Jim said, moving to stand up from the bed. “We’re still your friends. That hasn’t changed.”

“Everything’s changed,” came the flat response. The dark-haired man hissed out another curse word.

“How, Bones? How has it changed?” Jim reached out to touch the other’s arm, but Bones stepped back and he only grasped air. “What can we do to show you that this...everything...is fine?”

“I…” The other hesitated, and his shoulders slumping marginally and a look of depression coming across his face.

“John, everything is fine.”

In light of the circumstances, Jim realized that probably hadn’t been the best thing to say.

Upon hearing his name, the man paled. “I...I need to go,” he choked out. In one stride, he was at the door, sliding it open as quickly as it would go, and darted out into the hall. There was a surprised squawk of “Doctor McCoy?” as he almost collided with a passing crewman, and then he was gone.

Jim desired to run after him, but the simple utterance of ‘Jim’ stopped him. He looked, noting that Spock had not moved from his side of the bed. “Given the doctor’s reaction, I believe it would be best if we gave him time alone to process the events of the past twenty-seven days.”

“But,” Jim swiveled his head back towards the door, “I don’t want him thinking he’s going to be turned over to Starfleet, or that I want him to resign-”

“Given that he remembers the events of his regression, then logically he should recall how our behavior towards him would be counter-intuitive for both of those options,” Spock replied.

“It’s Bones, Spock,” stressed Jim. “Since when have you ever know him to be logical?”

Spock's cheek twitched and he also looked at the doorway where the man in question had fled. “Fair point,” he conceded. “However, to pursue him immediately would only serve to agitate him further. He is, understandably, disturbed by our knowledge of his past given the amount of effort he took to keep it hidden.”

“And if he decides to...I don’t know...jump ship?”

“You expect that he would steal a shuttle craft?” Spock appeared dubious.

“I don’t know!” Jim threw his hands in the air in frustration.

The Vulcan gave a shake of his head. “We are still nine days out from the next Star-base, and the nearest planets are uninhabitable, so even if he were to commandeer one of the shuttle crafts, he would not be able to travel far.” Noting Jim’s rising anxiety, he added, “However, if it would put your mind at ease, I shall notify security to contact me immediately should he be seen making his way towards the shuttle bay.”

“Right.” Jim ran a hand through his hair. “Thank you.” He stood there, his feet were still itching to run after the doctor, but his mind stilled the motion, acknowledging that his first officer was correct. Bones needed time. Perhaps after alpha shift, he would try again, if the doctor was willing. With a defeated sigh, he walked over to his closet, tugging off his t-shirt and selecting one of the many uniforms to change into. “I’ll see you on the bridge then.”

Spock tipped his head in response and excused himself as Jim began to prepare for what was going to undoubtedly be a very long day.

John.

Hearing his birth name, spoken so casually, had made him finally grasp the reality of the situation. Part of him regretted running away like a coward, but he couldn’t face it. Not there. Not at that moment.

Letting his feet carry him, he wandered around the ship, receiving looks of surprise and polite greetings and ‘welcome backs’ from every crew member he happened to cross paths with. He debated going back to his personal quarters, but decided against it, knowing that would be the first place people would go looking for him. Feeling overwhelmed, he ended up making his way to the reserved recreational room. It was empty, much to his relief, and sank down into a chair at the table where Spock’s and his child self’s varied activities were set up. He prodded the base of the Kal-Toh stand, before pushing it aside and slumping over the table, head resting upon crossed arms.

What a mess.

He always had a contingency plan in case of situations like this, not that he’d ever needed to use it before. He’d always been careful, had always maintained his covers down to the very last detail, up until the day he had to move on to the next life. Never had he anticipated on being the subject of some alien mumbo-jumbo and turned into a child, exposed for all the world to see and having absolutely no control over what he said and did in that state.

He didn’t even know that an alien being could do such things.

When you assume, you make an ass of you and me, he thought sourly, wishing he had gone with his gut instinct and bolted upon feeling the sensation of the Telarian inside his head . He should have expected, with so much still unknown in the universe, that nothing was outside the realm of possibly. His own nature was proof of that. I n ever should have let my guard down.

Too late for regrets now.

Idly, he rolled one of the t’an back and forth with a finger, then placed it on the structure, watching it change shape. It reminded him of life, of how one piece, a single event, had the potential to change everything.

Stay or leave?

Leaving was, as Spock would say, logical. To protect himself. To protect the crew.

And yet...

He was rather fond of this life he had made as Leonard McCoy, even if he hadn’t planned on going so far in Starfleet. His sudden promotion to CMO years back had been unexpected, but not wholly unwelcome. It had given him better access and control over his own records without the need for hacking the computers. What was more, there were the relationships that he had formed, the sense of companionship and camaraderie being something that he hadn’t felt since he was part of the R.R.T.S. He had missed it. Of being able to kick back and relax and joke with friends. Ever since he’d lost his humanity, he’d been plagued by a sort of loneliness, and after nearly two centuries, he had allowed himself to open his heart again, even if only a little.

In truth, as with the promotion, making friends hadn’t been in his plans at all. Friends had it’s own risks attached, and yet he had found he just couldn’t ignore the petulant blonde who had sat next to him on the shuttle nearly a decade before. Or rather, Jim Kirk couldn’t ignore him, having seen something interesting in the grumpy persona that was McCoy, and in turn he had allowed the kid to weasel into his life. The rest, as it were, was history.

It was the closest he’s gotten to anyone since Olduvai. Maybe too close. The incident with Khan had made him realize exactly what he was willing to do to protect the crew of the Enterprise. So much so, when he’d caught himself debating using his own cursed blood to save the other, that he had almost left then and there. He couldn’t though. It would have broken Jim, to save his life and then up and disappear. The deaths of all who had perished in Khan’s rampage had been damaging enough to the young Captain, who had felt guilt for months on end for not having been able to stop the crazed Augment. Leonard had had to sit the other down when he’d starting talking like that, about his regrets not killing Khan on Qo'noS. Killing came easy to John, it was what he had been trained to do, but Leonard knew it was not something everyone was capable of. Hell, it was the reason he liked Jim so much. The man was reckless, stubborn, even downright arrogant at times and, yet, much to both the doctor’s chagrin and admiration, would give his life up a hundred times over to save another. It was his compassion that made him a leader worth following.

If anything, it was Leonard who expressed guilt at not stopping Khan, knowing full well he could, that he should, have. At the very least, he’d have had a viable excuse to leave then. Fake his death like he’d always done.

Now?

That option wouldn’t deter the Captain. Not truly. Not when he knew the truth now. Spock had undoubtedly seen just about everything in his head and either told or had shown Jim all of it.

Leonard silently cursed under his breath. Damn telepaths. He didn’t blame the Vulcan for resorting to mind melds with his child self (he did recall the nightmares after all), but the idea still made him uncomfortable. When he’d learned that several species had the ability to pick up emotions and thoughts from simple contact or, worse yet, at a distance, he’d become highly guarded around everyone. Secrets were only as good as one’s ability to keep them, so he’d done his damnedest to learn basic shielding techniques to at least keep surface thoughts from being picked up. Not easy for humans to do, but he’d had some success. Projecting his emotions proved to be a good cover; his grumpy, cynical nature was quite off-putting to many, and kept most people at bay. Betazoids particularly liked to do a wide berth around him, disliking the negative energy, and Vulcans simply called him highly emotional and illogical and that was that. It had suited him just fine.

Damn Telarians, he thought again, not for the first time that day. His secrets were out in the open, and it was entirely his own doing, having been reduced to a child with no recollection as to where and what he was.

He was stuck. Ultimately, the decision came down to Jim. As real as the medical degrees were, he had still lied, had completely fabricated his identity. As a Captain of Starfleet, there were things expected of Jim. He was also his friend, but he was sure Jim was angry about the entire situation, and understandably so. He didn’t think Jim would turn him in, not after everything they’d been through, but...was he willing to let him go? Jim would have to, one day soon, but would he accept that?

Leonard stood up to leave, then paused, eyeing the Kal-Toh on the table. Picking up the final t’an, he placed it on the top of the misshapen structure before walking away.

The object shifted, replaced by a perfect icosidodecahedron.

Spock must have told Jim to give him space, because the man didn’t come looking for him until well after Alpha shift. Leonard had wandered the ship the better part of the day, before eventually finding himself on the observation deck where his child self had spent a significant amount of time, and it was there, sitting in the same spot by the window, that Jim found him. With a wave of his hand and a quick nod towards the door, Jim dismissed the two other crewmen who happened to be there, and he stood there, hesitant. John turned to get a better look at him, noting the other’s tired eyes.

“Are you mad?”

“I was,” Jim spoke honestly “At first.”

“And now?”

The blonde sat down beside him. “Still a bit disappointed that you felt you couldn’t trust me enough to tell me anything, but...I get it. I really do.”

He frowned. “If it’s any consolation, I’m sorry. You were never supposed to know. And now that you do it’s just going to make it all the harder when I finally have to…” He slumped, thumping his head back against the window with a soft thud. “Damn it all.”

“Have to what?” Jim asked quietly. “Leave?”

The expression he gave Jim was answer enough. “It’s easier, people not knowing,” he said. “Not only because it’s dangerous for people around me knowing the truth, but also...because you know...I can’t just fake my death and hide away somewhere. You’ll always be looking, and it wouldn’t be fair, to you, or anyone else, to grow old and I’m still...here, never changing. I can’t...I can’t put anyone through that. Not again.”

“Your sister?” Jim inquired tentatively.

“Yeah,” came the sullen response. “If I hadn’t left when I did, after we found out I wasn’t aging anymore, she would have continued staying by my side. I...I wanted her to live her own life. To get married, have kids, be happy. She never could have done any of that had I stayed with her. I never did go far, because I wanted to make sure we’d taken care of UAC, that no one connected to them ever bothered her. She did do what I wanted her to but...I heard her often, calling my name, even if she never saw me, up until the day she died.” Tears trailed down his cheeks. “It wasn’t fair.”

Jim remained quiet, sensing the other man wasn’t quite finished.

“Sometimes I hate her for what she did to me,” the doctor admitted softly, staring down at his hands. “But...I know why she did it. After our parents died, all we really had was each other. Hell, thinking about it, I probably would have done the same thing in her position, had it been her bleeding out on the ground instead of me. It’s not like we knew that it would affect aging. It’s perhaps my biggest regret, that I…” Dark, sad eyes met Jim’s own bright blue’s. “I never told her that it was okay. That it...wasn’t her fault.”

Jim reached out, resting a hand on the other’s shoulder and giving a tight squeeze. “I...don’t know what to say, Bones,” he admitted, “but...I think….I think she knew. I may not have met her, but from the way you talked about her, from what Spock picked up in your memories...she loved you. A lot. You were her brother. You wanted her to be happy but...I know she’d want you to be too.”

Leonard said nothing, looking away. “Does it matter though? I still have to leave eventually.”

“You’re not leaving right now, are you?”

“No, Jim,” the other man said softly. “No, I’m not. Not unless you want me to.”

That, to his surprise, earned him a smack on his arm. “Of course I don’t want you to leave! Damn it, Bones, I thought that much was obvious.” The man was glaring at him and Leonard winced at the obvious anger in his eyes. “I get that you can’t stay forever for obvious reasons, but that doesn’t mean I want you gone now!”

“Sorry.” Because that singular word was all that came to mind.

Jim let out displeased groan. “Ugh. I thought I went though all this with your kid self. Now I have to knock it into your thick adult skull too. We care, Bones. I understand your worries, but we got this.”

“Alright, fine.” Leonard threw up his hands in defeat. “I’ll stay, for now.” Another year? Three? He could do that. If only to save Jim from his self-sacrificing tendencies a bit longer. He paused, scrutinizing the Captain. “That said, with this ‘we,’ who else knows?”

“Umm…” Jim could help but fidget under his gaze. “Well, Spock told Nyota of course, then there’s Scotty, Sulu, and Pavel. M’Benga knows a bit too, but only about your blood work, and he’s sworn to keep quiet about it.”

Leonard was surprised. “That’s it? With the way everyone called me ‘John,’ I’d figured at least half the ship knew by now.”

“Well…that did sort of get around,” admitted Jim, running a hand through his hair. “But we managed to convince the crew that John is a secondary middle name for you and that you went by it as a kid because you hated the name Leonard.”

“I...really?”

Jim gave a wry smile. “Yeah. So...unofficially, you are now Leonard Horatio John McCoy.”

The doctor stared in disbelief. “I can’t decide if you’re being ridiculous or brilliant.”

“I prefer the term ‘brilliant’ myself.”

“Of course you do.”

Jim stretched back. “Well, now that that’s settled, want to talk about how adorable of a kid you were?”

That made Leonard sputter. “A….adorable?”

“I mean, all the ladies certainly thought so,” Jim teased. “So polite and charming. I can see why you chose to become a southern gentleman.”

Leonard scrunched up his nose. “I also did some absolutely insane things.”

“Like what?” Jim asked. “You were practically the model angelic child every parent wishes their kid was.”

“How about the fact that I inadvertently kissed a Vulcan?” He could have done without remembering the particular incident where he’d grabbed Spock’s hand and hauled him all over the ship.

“You were ten,” Jim remarked.

“That still doesn’t change the fact that I kissed the man!”

The blonde had the audacity to grin widely at him. “I’m sure Spock forgives you. Uhura certainly isn’t worried. She found it hilarious.”

It was Leonard’s turn to groan, feeling rather mortified.

“By the way, Bones, I wanted to ask you something.”

“What?”

“Reaper,” he said in a serious tone. “Really?”

Leonard groaned once more. “We were marines, Jim, not poets. Besides, I got that nickname same way you saddled me with 'Bones.' It was not my idea!”

Jim laughed, and the sound made a blanket of contentment wrap itself around Leonard.

Spock came to find Leonard the following day. It had been inevitable, seeing as the man had formed a significant connection with his child self. At first, he had presumed the Vulcan was there for the Captain, who had taken it upon himself to drop by sickbay and ‘return’ the items the doctor had picked up in his reduced state. The little succulent he placed to one end of his desk; the plush bear he resisted stuffing into the drawer seeing as Christine and other other nurses covered their mouths to cover their mirth when Jim had plopped it onto his lap.

Not that he’d admit it, but he’d put the bear on his nightstand later.

In response to that, and having reviewed Jim’s records, he’d managed to detain the man with the excuse of a physical and a vitamin supplement hypo-spray to the neck.

Jim had something to say about that of course as he rubbed at the sore spot. “Bones, I swear, M’Benga checked me out day after we got back.”

“Oh, yeah?” Leonard threw back. “Then why don’t I see your immune-support inoculation here?” He injected another hypo-spray in Jim’s nape.

“Ack!” Jim swatted at his hand and scowled. “You know, I changed my mind. I miss mini you.”

“Why’s that?”

“There were no hypos!”

Leonard snorted. “That’s on you for skipping them, ya damned infant. I’m gone for a month and look what happens!” He waved at Spock, who had been waiting patiently nearby. “He’s all yours, Commander.”

“Actually, Doctor, I am here to speak with you.”

That gave Leonard pause. “Oh?”

The other man’s eyes flicked towards the nearby medical staff. “If we may speak more privately?”

The doctor indicated his office. “Sure.” He looked at Jim, who only gave him a knowing look and a small smile before excusing himself to return to the bridge. He promptly followed Spock and shut the door behind him, taking a seat at his desk. “Alright. What do you want to talk about?”

“First, I would like to return this,” Spock reached into his pants pocket, pulling out a familiar golden ring, and took a seat opposite the other man as he set it down between them. Samantha’s ring. Well, their mother’s really, but Sam had taken to wearing it regularly after Olduvai before passing it over to her brother the day he left. Leonard quickly grabbed the jewelry, sliding back onto his pinky finger, relieved to have the familiar weight against his bare skin again.

“I...thank you.”

Spock gave a nod. “You are welcome.”

Leonard frowned. “That’s...not the reason you’re here though, is it?”

“It is not,”

The Vulcan seemed oddly hesitant.

“Well, spit it out, man!”

There was the characteristic eyebrow quirk that he knew. “I was wondering if you were amenable to discussing the matter of your 24^th chromosome.”

Ah. That. Leonard sighed. “Not sure what there is left to say about it that you don’t already know.”

“I wish to help you remove it,” Spock replied. “Or at least enable you to age as you should. If you wish it.”

Leonard’s head spun. “What?” He blinked, stunned. “You...would do that? Spock…” he slouched in his chair, running a hand through his hair. “I mean...I’ve tried to change it over the years, but haven’t had any luck. I’m not sure I even can-”

“Perhaps with my assistance, we will discover the solution together.”

The Vulcan had a certain set in his jaw, a look of resolve deep in his dark eyes. Spock was determined to do this. For him.

Was it okay to hope?

Leonard caved. “I...okay. Let’s do this.”

He had nothing to lose after all.

His friends on the other hand, had everything to gain.

The experiments on Bones genome did not come without strings attached. Jim decided that, since he was not yet ready to take up the offer of a promotion, he wanted to continue captaining the Enterprise as long as the senior crew were willing to put up with him. They agreed, as did Bones, but there was a timer on how long they had to try and help him.

“Six more years,” he told them all firmly. “That’s my limit. People are going to notice if I stick around any longer than that. I can only do so much with hair dye and cosmetics.”

Swallowing around the hard lump in his throat, Jim agreed. Six years it was.

Early on, Spock determined that Bones was still aging, albeit at a faction of the speed of the average human. It wasn’t exactly immortality, but still pretty damn close to it. By their estimate, Bones could potentially have lived for two thousand years.

“Great!” It wasn’t something the doctor had noticed himself, but he also didn’t care for it either. “That’s still too damn long.”

Jim couldn’t argue with that.

Removing the additional chromosome outright proved impossible, at least with the technology currently available to them. That left cellular manipulation.

Long hours in one of the science labs, countless sleepless nights, and more trials and failures than Jim could count, some with negligible results, and a few with some rather alarming side effects, the latter of which thankfully were rare. Jim for one never wanted to see his friend puking up blood again, even if the other man had been re-markedly unfazed by it and had told him he’d be fine. Even it it were the case, with Bones at one point feeling the need to demonstrate his accelerated healing ability by slicing his palm with a scalpel, Jim bluntly reminded him that blood belonged inside the body, not outside of it. All he could do though was watch as the pair devoted nearly all their free time outside their duties in attempting to manipulate the 24 ^th chromosome. Even when Bones seemed to throw in the towel and walk away in frustration and tried to convince Spock to do the same, Spock never faltered, and Bones always went back to his side, not willing to let the other do all the work alone.

While beyond their expertise, the others were not about to let the pair work themselves to exhaustion. Scotty and Pavel would sneak alcohol into the lab and, along with Sulu, would coax the doctor away for a few card games at least twice a week, with Jim frequently joining in.

Uhura came by far more frequently, spending nearly as much of her free time in the lab as Spock and Bones did. Upon learning that the doctor knew multiple earth languages, all stemming from his travels across the planet over the decades, they’d started exchanging linguistic lessons while they worked, making Jim a bit jealous that the man could multitask so well. Further into the evenings, she’d attempt to grab her boyfriend away for some alone time and Bones had to all but kick the stubborn Vulcan out of the lab each time since Spock apparently did not understand the concept of human evasion and the underlying implications of her words to him.

“You two are a couple, Spock!” Jim heard the irate doctor barking at his first officer on more than one occasion. “Go out and do whatever it is that couples do!”

Uhura at least didn’t complain about having less time with Spock. In fact, she was confident that his fierce dedication in finding a cure for Bones would be successful. Bones didn’t appear so sure, but allowed her her optimism.

Jim was no expert on the subject, but Spock eventually came to believe that the 24^th chromosome was somehow linked to the Seed Theory. It was the popular idea that a race known as the Progenitors, an ancient alien species which was thought to be the first form of life to exist in the galaxy, had essentially ‘seeded’ many planets with a DNA code similar to their own that would eventually lead to the creation of the species that existed present day. This same theory was used to explain why the majority of known humanoid species carried the same amount of chromosomes, which allowed them to reproduce and have offspring such as Spock, who in turn, having complete pairs of chromosomes rather than halves, were not sterile and could also have offspring of their own.

By using this theory as his basis, Spock postulated that if they collected a variety of DNA from a number of species, they could formulate a retrovirus that would rearrange the DNA within the additional chromosome. Of course, when Spock had handed Bones the vial filled with his own green blood, the doctor had taken the chance to remark on if he was “going to be part hobgoblin now.” If Vulcans expressed themselves more, Jim was certain Spock would have sighed in exasperation given the way he’d side-eyed the other man.

Four years (and five months and seventeen days according to Spock), their hard work finally began to provide results. It was a good thing too, since Bones had been starting to feel awfully restless and had become increasingly paranoid about being discovered. Not that Jim could blame him, but now, finally, they could all relax.

Bones’ strength was still rather formidable, and his senses were still sharper than most species, though he claimed they had become noticeably ‘duller’ than before. He also did not heal instantaneously anymore, now needing a few hours for his body to completely heal an open wound. That all proved that the cell manipulation worked, but the most important factor was-

“Dammit, Jim! You’ve given me gray hair!”

Sure enough, a few years later, there were strands of silver beginning to lighten the edge of the doctor’s hairline. The light lines of crow’s feet had also begun to mar the skin at the corners of his eyes, more prominent as the doctor glared at Jim halfheartedly, fondness twinkling in the dark irises. He cracked a smile then, and breathed a deep sigh of relief.

“You’re not planning on leaving anymore, are you?” Jim asked him.

“No.” And Bones pulled him into a hug, so tight Jim had to remind the man that he could still very well break his ribs if he wasn’t careful.

The doctor only laughed in response, wiping away a happy tear that had trailed idly down his cheek. He then grabbed Spock, who’d been quietly observing nearby, and, draping his arms over each of their shoulders, the trio stood and looked out the view port, watching as the stars zipped on by in the dark of space.

For the first time since Olduvai, all those years ago, Leonard finally found himself feeling peace. With life. Within himself.

No longer did he have to continue watching those around him growing old while he lingered on. No longer did he have to avoid forming lasting relationships all out of fear of the grief and loss he’d feel never being able to be his true self and needing to move on almost as soon as he’d arrived.

What once had felt like an impossible dream was now a reality, and he could thank his friends for this.

His family.

Fin.