Chapter Text
Leonard’s eighth birthday is nice. It lands on a Sunday, and as a treat, his parents don’t take him to church.
His uncle gets him a starship model. His cousin is more into Starfleet than he is, but his uncle apparently thinks all young boys share the same interests.
Leonard spends the next hour carefully examining the model, turning it over in his hands, imagining the crew walking the decks, the engines humming. He likes the idea of adventure, yes, but in a safe, controlled way.
Outside, the crickets hum lazily in the warm autumn air, the dog snores in a patch of sunlight spilling through the front porch, and the house smells faintly of pancakes and cinnamon from the morning’s breakfast.
His sister Donna, is playing with her dolls too the side near their mama.
His cousin, David, talks nonstop about starships, firing strategies, and distant planets.
“Mmhmm,” Leonard occasionally mumbles, absorbed in the miniature starship in his hands.
Finally, Mama calls out, “Leonard, why don’t you and David go play in the garden? Pa’s going hunting, and we’ll have barbecue for lunch.”
Leonard blinks at her, then glances at David, who’s still rambling about photon torpedoes.
“Want to?,” he mutters again, already imagining the garden: rows of marigolds, tomato plants, and a small patch of wildflowers where he likes to hide and read his comic books.
David shrugs. “Sure, let’s go.”
“Want to come Donna?” Leonard asks his little sister.
“No, I’m gonna play with my dolly’s” she giggles.
The two boys tumble outside, bare feet sticking to the slightly crisp wooden porch. Leonard feels the warm sun on his back, the gentle hum of crickets, and the soft rustle of autumn leaves in the garden. The dog whines at the noise, wagging its tail.
“Don’t get too messy, boys!” Mama calls from the kitchen.
“Yes ma!” Leonard yells back.
The boys slip between the rows of marigolds and tomatoes, careful not to crush anything—well, David less careful than Leonard. Leonard kneels by the wildflower patch, settling into his favorite hiding spot as the sun warms his back. He pulls a small notebook from his pocket and starts sketching some of the flowers, tracing their shapes and colors.
David dashes around, pretending to be the captain of a starship, firing invisible phasers at alien invaders.
“Leonard! Quick, the Klingons are attacking the garden!”
“Mmhmm,” Leonard mumbles, not looking up. He’s mostly amused by David’s antics but more interested in the quiet of the flowers and the buzz of bees flitting between blossoms.
David flops onto the grass dramatically. “C’mon, Len! You’re supposed to defend the planet!”
Leonard finally glances up, a small smirk tugging at his lips.
“I’m… surveying the terrain. Strategic advantage.”
David groans. “You’re no fun.”
Leonard shrugs. “Someone has to be responsible.”
The dog trots over, tail wagging, sniffing curiously at David’s messy hands and Leonard’s notebook. Leonard scratches behind its ears, smiling. The warm sunlight falls golden across the garden
Having an October birthday (especially one only a week away from Halloween) meant that his birthday was surrounded by spooky items, it’s not that he didn’t like getting free candy… it’s just that he preferred to stay home in the warmth.
While the other kids in town planned costumes and spooky adventures, Leonard liked quieter things: the hum of the heater, the creak of the porch swing, the comfort of knowing exactly what the day would bring.
He liked the sound of his mama humming in the kitchen, the steady rhythm of his papa’s boots crossing the floor, the dog, Buck, nails clacking and clicking against the floor.
“Len, come on. Let’s see, maybe you can be a cowboy, your daddy probably has the hat, maybe an old pair of boots that fit you” his mama says, smiling gently.
She looked up from the large pot of soup she was making to check down the hallway, where his papa had gone to use the bathroom.
Leonard scrunches his nose. “I don’t wanna be a cowboy.”
His mama raises an eyebrow, still stirring something on the stove. “Oh? And what’s wrong with a cowboy?”
“Too itchy,” he mutters, tugging at his shirt collar for emphasis. “And everybody’s gonna be one.”
She chuckles, the sound soft and warm like the smell of cinnamon in the air. “Well, what do you wanna be then?”
He shrugs, thinking. “Maybe a doctor. Doctors don’t get dirt on their shoes.”
His mama laughs, turning to look at him. “A doctor, huh? That’s a mighty fine thing to be.”
Leonard grins, a little shy but proud, and leans against the doorframe
“Well, your daddy’s gonna have to take you shopping then” she says, tapping the wooden spoon against the pot. “Can’t have a doctor without a stethoscope.”
Leonard brightens at the thought, already imagining the costume, clean white coat, shiny shoes, maybe even a little name tag. Something official.
“Can Buck come?” he asks.
“To the store?” she teases, raising an eyebrow.
“He’s my assistant,” Leonard insists, reaching down to scratch the old hound’s head.
“They don’t let dogs in stores honey” she sighs happily.
His father returns from the bathroom, and smiles at his son. “Is Buck being good?”
Leonard nods solemnly. “He’s my assistant.”
“Assistant?” his father repeats, amused. He glances toward the kitchen. “What’s he assistin’ with?”
“Doctor work,” Leonard says proudly. “Mama says you’re takin’ me to the store for a stethoscope.”
His father laughs, a deep, warm sound that fills the little house. “That so?” He looks to his wife, who’s hiding a smile behind the ladle.
“Mmhm,” she hums, “our boy’s fixin’ to be a doctor for Halloween.”
“Well now,” his father says, crouching down so he’s eye level with Leonard, “that’s a fine thing to be. Lotta work, though. You think you can handle all that responsibility?”
Leonard nods with full, serious conviction. “Yes, sir.”
His father reaches out, ruffling his hair. “Then I reckon we better get you that stethoscope, huh?”
Leonard beams, the kind of bright, unfiltered smile that makes his mama pause to watch him. Buck wags his tail like he understands the plan.
“Don’t forget the milk while you’re out,” his mama calls after them.
“Yes, ma’am,” his father answers automatically, guiding Leonard toward the door. The evening air is crisp, the trees already losing their leaves. Leonard tugs his sweater closer around him and looks up at the wide, fading orange sky.
They both jump into the truck, “your too mature for your age” his dad says, tousling his son's hair “making people think we’re putting you to work!”
Leonard grins, buckling himself in. “Maybe I am workin’. Doctors help people, don’t they?”
His father laughs, the sound blending with the rattle of gravel under the tires. “That’s true enough. Guess I oughta start callin’ you Dr. McCoy, huh?”
Leonard sits a little straighter at that, chin tilting up proudly. “Dr. Leonard McCoy,” he repeats carefully, tasting the words like they’re something special.
“Well, Doctor,” his father drawls, glancing over with a smile, “you think doctors like chocolate milk?”
Leonard nods immediately. “It’s good for your bones.”
“That so?” His father chuckles. “Guess I’ll have to take your word for it.”
“I am a doctor after all” Leonard laughs.
The old engine coughs before catching, humming steady beneath them as his father backs out of the drive.
“Not yet, little man.” His dad laughs. glancing over with a grin. “Gotta finish school first. Then college. Then some more school after that.”
Leonard frowns thoughtfully. “That’s a lotta school.”
“Sure is,” his father agrees. “But the world always needs good doctors. And you’d be a damn fine one.”
Leonard beams, cheeks pink from the compliment. He turns his gaze out the window, watching the trees blur into streaks of gold and brown.
Leonard knew his grandpa was also a doctor, and he wanted to do that too,
His father glanced at him again, catching the quiet focus in his son’s face. “Thinkin’ hard again, huh?”
Leonard hummed in agreement. “Just… about doctor things.”
“Well,” his father said softly, reaching over to pat his knee, “then you keep thinkin’ that way. This family’s been helpin’ people a long time. No reason for that to stop now.”
Leonard smiled, small but certain. The truck rattled on toward town, the fields rolling past in shades of orange and brown, and somewhere in the distance, the first hints of winter waited beyond the hills.
“Does Donna need a costume?” Leonard asks, looking over to his dad.
“No, she’s going to be a princess, like last year”
his father says, smiling. “She loves it, and it makes her happy.”
Leonard nods thoughtfully. “I guess… I like being a doctor better.”
“Of course you do, little man,” his dad chuckles. “Gotta be who you are, not what everyone else wants.”
The truck bumps along the dirt road, crunching over the fallen leaves. Leonard presses his face to the window, watching the shadows stretch long in the fading autumn light. The smell of damp earth and dry leaves drifts inside
“Len, Don, look over here, let me get a photo of my little princess and doctor!” Their mama holds a chocolate bar, wiggling it like a dog treat in front of them.
Leonard groans a little but can’t help grinning as he straightens his little white coat. Donna twirls, the tulle of her princess dress puffing around her like a cloud.
“Say cheese!” Mama calls, snapping the photo.
“Cheese!” The kids echo, Leonard trying to look serious, like a real doctor, while Donna squeals and leans into him for balance.
Click. The moment freezes, the sunlight streaming through the kitchen window, Buck lying lazily nearby, and the faint smell of cinnamon lingering in the air.
Leonard glances down at the chocolate bar his mama finally hands him as a reward. He nibbles thoughtfully. “Doctors need sugar too,” he murmurs.
“Come on you two, let’s get to your uncles house” their mom leads them to the car.
Unlike them, Leonard's uncle lived in a large neighborhood and not on the outskirts of farmland that had been in his mama's family for decades.
The streets were lined with neatly trimmed lawns, sidewalks, and trees showing off their bright autumn colors, lots of decorations, and hover cars.
Most people who lived on farms wanted something more reliable, so they had old fashioned cars, like the truck.
Their mama parked the car in front of a modest house with a brick facade, a tidy garden, and a driveway already dotted with bicycles and toys. “All right, kids, go on inside and say hello to your cousin David,” she said, opening the doors.
“Mama, is Buck sad all home alone?” His sister asks, as their mom helps her out of the booster seat.
Leonard glanced back toward the truck, chewing his lip. “I… don’t think so,” he said carefully. “He’s… used to being at home. He’ll nap.”
Donna frowned, hugging her little doll close. “I hope so. He doesn’t like being alone.”
Their mama smiled reassuringly. “He’ll be fine, sweetie. Buck’s a big dog—he can handle a few hours. Now go on inside and say hi to David. I promise we’ll be back before you know it.”
Leonard hesitated for a second, tugging at the edge of his sweater, then nodded. “Okay…”
He stepped down from the car, his small hands brushing against the crisp autumn air. The neighborhood buzzed softly with distant voices, the hum of hover cars, and the occasional bark of a dog somewhere down the street.
Donna scampered ahead, twirling a little, and Leonard followed, careful not to trip over the neatly trimmed shrubs lining the walkway. At the door, he paused, taking a deep breath.
Donna knocked on the door as their parents caught up to them, and their cousin opened the door.
“Aunty Eleanora! Uncle namesake!” David giggles, and Leonard’s father shakes his head bashfully. “Come in! Come in!”
“Come on you two, let’s get inside”
November. Leonard and Donna were waiting for December, because winter break! The garden looked… sad. But Leonard still needed to do his chores and tend to it, but now that just meant racking leaves and sweeping paths.
Buck padded along beside him, sniffing at the piles of orange and brown leaves, occasionally nosing a stubborn acorn out of the way. Leonard brushed his hair from his eyes and tugged his sweater tighter. The air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of smoke from nearby chimneys and the occasional tang of frost.
Donna kicked at a pile of leaves with a small thump. “I wish it was winter already! Then we could play in the snow!”
Leonard chuckled softly. “It’ll come soon enough. We just gotta get through November first.”
The two worked quietly, Leonard humming a little tune under his breath while he raked, feeling the rhythm of the task soothe him. He glanced up at the sky streaked with pale orange and gray, imagining the long winter evenings ahead.
For Christmas the entire family came to their house, they ate a lot of food and opened lots of presents! But for now he was just watching his sister play with one of the soccer balls that laid around outside, her bracelets that she got a few months ago for her seventh birthday rattled when she slipped over leaves… which she did quite often.
In the beginning of December Leonard’s mama helped a baby bird who had flown into their window, “looks like he started migration a little late” she laughed.
Sometimes he heard his dad calling her too nice, Leonard didn’t see how being nice could be bad.
Then his parents started being… weird.
They whispered in the kitchen when they thought Leonard and Donna weren’t listening, glancing toward the living room with small, secret smiles. They spent longer than usual at the grocery store, coming home with extra blankets, toys, and tiny clothes that didn’t belong to Leonard or Donna.
Leonard noticed, of course. He tilted his head when he saw his mama fussing over the tiny socks, his brow furrowing. “Who’s that for?” he asked one evening, trying to sound casual.
“Oh, just… a friend,” she said quickly, smiling a little too brightly.
His dad chuckled nervously. “Yeah, a friend,” he echoed, ruffling Leonard’s hair. “Nothing for you to worry about.”
But Leonard did worry. Something was coming. Something new.
Leonard tried not to stare too much at the extra toys and clothes, but his eyes kept drifting toward them. Every now and then, he caught his parents exchanging a glance, small smiles tugging at the corners of their mouths, and he felt a strange mix of excitement and nerves coil in his stomach.
Donna seemed oblivious, giggling as she arranged her dolls in neat rows, but Leonard couldn’t shake the feeling that something big was about to happen.
And he was right.
In many ways. His cousin David drowned. A frozen lake had cracked under him and he’d fallen through the ice and wasn’t able to get back up.
Leonard remembered the last time he’d seen David, laughing and pretending to fire phasers in the garden. The memory felt impossibly distant now, replaced by the cold, harsh image of ice and water, and the silence that followed.
His parents’ faces were pale and drawn when they told him, eyes rimmed with tears they tried, and failed, to hide. Leonard’s own chest ached, a hollow, empty feeling he didn’t have words for yet.
Donna clung to his side, too young to understand completely, but sensing that something had shifted. She buried her face in his sweater, and Leonard wrapped an arm around her, wishing he could make the world stop, just for a little while.
Even Buck, usually so cheerful, stayed close, nudging Leonard’s hand with a cold nose as if offering the simplest comfort he could.
At the funeral he saw the adults talking in the back, it seemed… odd. Like his uncle knew something that his parents didn’t want him and his sister to know.
Late December, almost Christmas, the family was all still somber. His uncle had developed a drinking problem he didn’t want the family to know about, but they could all tell.
Snow had dusted roof tops, and the garden, Leonard watched the snow fall from the window, thinking of David, the frozen lake, and the strange hush that had settled over the household. The house was quieter than usual, even with Donna chattering to her dolls, and Leonard felt the weight of change pressing closer with each passing day.
Mama and Papa exchanged glances more often, their smiles strained but trying to hold warmth for the children.
He was right in many ways about those big changes, he just couldn’t have guessed there’d be more than his cousin passing away.
Then, one chilly morning in December, their parents called them into the living room. The sun caught the frost on the windowpanes, making the room glow in pale gold.
“Len, Don… we have something to tell you,” Mama began, her voice gentle but firm.
Leonard tilted his head, curious. Donna clutched his hand, her small fingers trembling with a mix of excitement and unease.
“They’re… coming to live with us,” Papa said, glancing at Mama for support. “Two little boys. They need a home, and… well, we think it’s the right thing to do.”
Leonard’s brow furrowed. “Who?” he asked cautiously.
Mama smiled softly, reaching out to squeeze his hand. “James and Sam… your new brothers.”
For a moment, the room seemed impossibly quiet. Leonard’s mind spun, new brothers? Babies? How would that even work? Donna’s grip on his hand tightened as she whispered, “Brothers?”
“Yes, sweetie,” Mama said, her voice warm but tinged with gravity. “They’re very little, and they need a safe home… a family.”