Author's Note: Good lord above! What was supposed to be one short chapter has apparently turned into…six not so short offerings. This chapter is essentially the original idea (my take on why McCoy decided that he had to get over his aviaphobia), so I hope you all enjoy it. As I mentioned in the AN in chapter one, it's shocking, but stick with it. I promise I'll redeem myself in the end. Angsty, dramatic, rip-your-heart-out hurt/comfort/character death is not for this fic. I reserve that right for an epically huge piece to be posted at a later date. ;)

Disclaimer: If I owned Star Trek, Karl Urban's apparent allergy to shirt buttons would be explored completely, and J.J. Abrams would already be contracted to direct the next film. So if it isn't clear enough, Star Trek isn't mine and I make no profit. More's the pity.

Chapter 6

If he had to deal with one more whining, pathetic, bone-headed intern, McCoy swore the JAG was not going to be able to hold him accountable for his own actions. After his emergency shift in medical, he felt a strange urge to test the durability of the drywall with his fist. Certainly, it'd be the preferable way, though it'd be completely improper. Starfleet had, in fact, outlawed the use of human subjects in case studies, so grabbing the nearest intern and pummeling the life out of him was probably something that would be frowned upon.

As if his day wasn't bad enough, the message from Pike had him ready to jump from the top of the Starfleet hospital roof. Of all the stupid, irritating places the captain could take his daughter, the man had to go to spacedock. When Pike mentioned visiting the Enterprise, McCoy didn't think he was actually serious about taking Jo that far away. But, as he'd found, his daughter was able to weasel her way into or out of just about anything, and it appeared she's wormed her way right into the heart of one of the highest ranking people on campus.

Shrugging out of his white lab coat, McCoy growled at a passing first year nurse. She jumped, yelped in fear and scurried off to another part of the hospital for her break. He shoved his stethoscope and coat in his locker, changed his shoes, and slammed the small storage space shut. It rattled the entire bank of lockers, the small structure shaking like a bunch of scared medical student withering under his glare. McCoy walked out the door of the lounge and nodded at Chapel on the way out the hospital entrance. He walked across campus toward the shuttle bay, alternately thanking Captain Pike for watching Jo without hesitation while also cursing the man out for taking her to a place that would force him to set foot on a 'flying deathtrap' of a machine.

He entered the hanger bay and swiped his ID card. When he stopped at the sign in sheet, a few curious workers in the bay threw confused looks in his direction, but wisely said nothing. McCoy's fear of flying was legendary stuff around campus, since outwardly, there was not much else that phased him. People like Chapel, Pike and Kirk knew better than to believe such obvious bullshit, but they kept their mouths shut to preserve his image. It was paramount to all for the medical staff to believe that Len was a rock, and if they knew he had fears and doubts just like everyone else, the trio knew McCoy felt his ability to lead in a crisis might be greatly compromised.

The doctor plopped heavily down in the assigned seat of his shuttle and strapped himself in. The five point restraint bit into his shoulders as the pilot began preflight. The shaking, rumbling sensation he felt in the seat of his pants was something he'd never really get used to, nor would he like it. McCoy closed his eyes and swallowed down the welling nausea, cursing that he didn't have time to give himself a Dramamine hypo before he left. He adjusted his breathing to keep it slow and even. In through the nose. Hold. Out through the mouth. Slow. Steady. 'Shuttles are safe. They're fine. You're over this,' he kept telling himself. The doctor forced his mind to another topic, and inevitably, his thoughts drifted toward his daughter.

McCoy didn't mind one bit that Jo and Pike hit it off. In fact, he was quite pleased that she'd taken to Jim and Chris. Both men were, for obviously different reasons, very important to him, and McCoy would be lying if he said that their acceptance didn't mean a ton. But what he really despised, with a burning, searing passion, was flying. Thanks to Jim, he could get in a shuttle now without puking the entire ride or needing a fifth of Kentucky's finest beforehand. He still didn't know how to fly, but he was a medical track cadet. He had more important things to do than learn how to glide a shuttle back down to the ground. It was a requirement he needed to complete, but McCoy fully intended on putting it off until the very last moment.

All too soon, the shuttle was linking up at spacedock. McCoy looked around, surprised that he'd daydreamed through an entire flight without once thinking about panicking. He'd barely even registered the liftoff, which was a feat in and of itself. He unclicked his safety harness and exited the shuttle, following the signs to one of the meeting rooms Pike set up as a meeting point.

The door to the small room swished open, and even the crabby doctor couldn't help but laugh. Seated in front of him, Joanna was working away at the biggest ice cream cone imaginable to man. The three scoops of chocolate, vanilla and strawberry were nearly as tall as her head, and she couldn't quite seem to figure out where to start. Next to her, Pike sat across the table, quietly eating his own, albeit much smaller, mint chocolate chip cone, smirking as Jo growled in frustration.

The little girl heard the door and looked up. "Daddy!" she practically yelled, carefully balancing the treat in the holder set on the table top. "Captain Pike got me ice cream!"

"I can see that," McCoy answered, eyeing the stack of sugar rush with trepidation. He wondered silently if he'd be at DEFCON 4 when Joanna inevitably went into hyper drive from sweet overdose. Shifting his eyes over to a very causal looking captain, Len suddenly felt the compunction to update each and every one of Pike's boosters. He knew the smug bastard did this to him on purpose. But really, who was McCoy kidding? He'd have done the same, exact thing if he were in Pike's place. There was no need to be sanctimonious now.

Joanna's exclamation of delight alerted the captain to McCoy's presence, and he tipped his head in the doctor's direction. In response to Len's silent Eyebrow of Doom, Pike nonchalantly said, "Your daughter said that you wouldn't let her have any ice cream. I think that's a crime, and the last time I checked, I still outrank you." He motioned to the set of utensils on the table. "Grab a spoon and a chair, McCoy."

With a growl, McCoy sat down but did as he was told. It was low even for Pike to pull rank, but Len silently accepted the spoon Chris handed in his direction. He stole a bit of his daughter's strawberry ice cream, ignoring Joanna's protests, and glared over the massive stack of the sweet treat at Pike. He savored the sweet richness of the treat because really, this ice cream was quite good. Not that he'd admit it, but it really was good. Remembering he was supposed to be pissed, Len swallowed quickly and then pointed his spoon at Pike. "You know she was being punished for talking out of turn when I wouldn't give her what she wanted, right?"

The captain rolled his eyes and bit off a big chunk of the cone, his teeth crunching loudly against the cookie holder. With his mouth half full, he asked, "What could she have possibly said that was so wrong?"

McCoy leaned over and whispered what Joanna had asked in the middle of the Italian restaurant when they went to dinner with Jim. If Jo had been watching (which she wasn't, because that ice cream cone was epic), she would have seen Pike's eyes bulge, his eyebrows shoot up to his hairline, and finally, she would have seen the captain struggling not to laugh out loud. Eventually, the need for air won over the hopes he'd make no sound, and a tiny laugh escaped Chris' throat. He cleared it quickly and then schooled his face to passivity. With a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, he asked, "What's so wrong with that?"

Len's blood pressure ticked a few points higher when his brain registered that the good captain wasn't equally as appalled as he had been. Instead, Pike was turning bright red as he tried not to burst out laughing. "You cannot be serious. If you had a daughter and she said that in the middle of a restaurant because she heard it from Kirk, you'd have him running champion makers for the next month."

"Yes, but that doesn't mean I don't think it's funny. There's a difference, McCoy. Besides, it's not her fault that she's brilliant and that your roommate is an immature pig."

"Okay, point," McCoy sighed while he continued to 'help' Jo eat her ice cream. He was surprised to see that it was almost gone. Apparently, he'd been far hungrier than he thought, but he should have known better. A sandwich from the vending replicator in the hospital would only take him so far. He also should know better than to eat three scoops of ice cream on an empty stomach, but hell with it. He was on vacation. Joanna, for once, sat silently while she ate. Len knew it was more of the result of the ice cream she was shoveling in her mouth, but he'd take the silence any way he could get it. Finally finished, she leaned back in her chair and set her very sticky hands on the conference room table.

Pike produced a towel from what seemed like thin air and held it out to Joanna so she could wipe her face and hands. The simple action made Len double take and rub his eyes in confirmation. The captain was a constant source of surprises, and the easy manner Chris had with children was yet another layer to his personality McCoy was still discovering. It was amazing the man had no kids himself, because he was really a natural dad. Len mentally slapped himself for the thought. 'Of course he's a natural parent. Look at what he deals with every day, idiot.'

Free from sticky goo, Joanna bounced over toward her father. She picked up a small golden replica of a Federation starship on her way by the display. She cradled it in her tiny hands and, flying it through 'space' while making the appropriate warp drive sound effects announced, "Daddy! I'm going to fly spaceships when I grow up!"

"That's great, honey." Bones narrowed his eyes, suspicious, and turned his gaze back toward his commanding officer. He dropped his voice a few decibels so Jo wouldn't hear him before asking, "Sir, permission to speak freely?"

Pike snorted. "You always do, McCoy, permission or no."

Hands on hips, eyebrows narrowing, and an evil, hard glint in his eyes, McCoy growled, "What else did you show my daughter?"

Pike laughed and put his hands up in mock surrender. "Nothing, I promise. I gave her a little tour of the new ship and showed her around spacedock, but nothing else, I swear to you. Captain's honor," he said, holding up his right hand. "It's just a sugar high, McCoy. She'll be fine."

Leonard looked over his shoulder and Joanna, the little girl still running and jumping off every available surface while shooting imaginary photon torpedoes at the enemy Klingon vessel. He turned back toward Pike, the older man propped in his chair with his hands folded on his stomach. He looked rather smug, and that was annoying the doctor. "You did this on purpose."

"Did what, McCoy?" Chris asked innocently.

"That's what I thought," McCoy replied. "Joanna? We should go. Say goodbye to Captain Pike and then make sure you have all your stuff."

Jo paused in mid-leap, hopping down from the chair with relative ease. She dragged her feet back towards the pair of adults, shoulders slumped and nearly pouting. She gently placed the ship back on the table. Looking up at Pike she said, "Thanks Mr. Pike. It was fun playing today."

"You're welcome, Jo. Behave for your father the rest of your time here, okay?" Chris straightened and looked McCoy in the eye. "She's a brilliant girl. You should be proud of her. Funny and outgoing. Don't know where that came from, but I don't think it was from you."

"Oh, I am very proud of her. You have no idea," McCoy replied, blushing slightly at the compliment. Under his breath he muttered, "But you haven't met my ex."

Pike let the rare act of embarrassment pass; as much as he enjoyed busting the man's balls, he knew where to draw the line. He also didn't need McCoy to know that he had a lot more to do with Joanna's visit than McCoy believed. All the doctor thought Pike did was clear his schedule and get him the family quarters assignment for the week. The true specifics were one stipulation Jocelyn and Chris had laid out early on in their conversation. Under no circumstances was he to tell Len that he'd been in Georgia. They both agreed it was for the better, as private of a person as he was.

Unaware of his CO's thoughts, McCoy did his fatherly duties and did a quick once over of the room. Satisfied he didn't forget anything, he turned back to Pike. He and the captain shook hands, and Leonard said, "Thank you for all of this, Sir. I owe you."

"I'll put it on your tab, McCoy. Extra push ups next week. How does that sound?"

The doctor rolled his eyes. "Just fabulous. Have a good night, Captain."

Father and daughter waved goodbye as the doors to the conference room slid closed and Captain Pike disappeared behind them. They made their way down to the shuttle bay and to the correct gate. Joanna looked up at her father and practically beamed. "We get to go on another shuttle ride!"

"Yes, we do, Jo. But just like you did for Captain Pike, I need you to behave for me, okay? Can you do that?"

Jo nodded.

The deck officer called their flight number and McCoy led Jo inside. Leonard said a silent prayer as they crossed the threshold of the door. Flying as an individual on a shaky craft was one thing, but having his daughter in tow changed the game completely. The barrage of pessimistic 'what ifs' marched through his mind. He willfully pushed them aside and smiled tightly at Joanna, squeezing her hand when she practically flounced aboard. Swallowing back the lump in his throat, he led them to their seats.

He knew he had precious little time with Jo at the Academy, and McCoy wanted to make the best of every minute. If that meant taking a ride on a shuttle, an act of which he was still absolutely fearful, he'd do it just to make his daughter happy. He planned to take her to the local fair Chapel suggested that was in town after he ate something that was freshly prepared and then had a proper shower. Len was strangely excited to take Jo to the fair. According to his head nurse, there were all sorts of crafts and games, and he knew right away it'd be perfect for her. Who said Leonard McCoy didn't have a softer side?

He made sure Joanna was strapped in tightly before he did up his own restraints. He dropped a gentle kiss on her forehead and ruffled her hair when she squeaked in protest. Len looked down at Jo, smiling softly as the little girl strained in her seat to look out the windows of the shuttle. She turned her head back toward her father and said excitedly, "Isn't flying the greatest?"

McCoy nearly rolled his eyes. No, flying was not the greatest, despite Jim and Chris' attestations to the contrary. While he could tolerate flights in small doses now, he didn't necessarily like the things. He still thought they were flying deathtraps that had their own power sources, but he'd learned to harness his fear and not let it consume him. He felt the telltale rumble of the engine start up and heard the thrusters fire. The hull of the shuttle bay floated slowly by, and before long the shuttle's windows was carpeted by the blackness of space with the stars as outlines. It reminded him where he sat in the universe and how insignificant he was. But he wasn't about to burst his daughter's bubble, and to appease Joanna, he replied a curt, "It is," while he worked on controlling his breathing so he wouldn't panic.

Joanna accepted her father's obviously BS answer, settled into her seat after takeoff was complete and watched the stars and the ships pass by. She didn't even notice the rest of the craft's occupants, focusing solely on what was going on outside her window. It was positively heavenly to watch, and it fascinated her endlessly. How could such a little tiny ship protect them from all that was out in space? How did it fly? How could it work? She had so many questions that she needed to find the answers to, and she couldn't wait until her next visit to ask Captain Pike.

The doctor sat silently and observed as the shuttle descended through earth's atmosphere. He felt the switch from artificial to actual gravity, the planet's way of welcoming back the craft as it approached Starfleet's shuttle port. All the while, he sat wondering if Pike had inadvertently created a monster when he took Jo up in the co-pilot's seat. It seemed her head was still in the cosmos and that he'd be lucky if it came down any time soon, if she came down at all. In his mind, he hoped Joanna would choose a career path that would give her safety, but he also knew that he couldn't force her to spend her life working on something she hated. If that meant his little girl put herself in harm's to follow her calling, then that was how it had to be. Leonard knew he had several years before she'd make that choice, but it didn't make the thought any easier.

But before he could think of anything else, McCoy was literally shocked and jolted out of his reverie. He heard a loud bang, and then the little ship shuddered violently. As a doctor, Len knew very little about flight controls, but it didn't take Pike's advanced fight skills to feel the physical clues of a craft in distress. In an instant, his body was pressed forward in the safety harness as the ship lost forward momentum. It also veered sharply right, the back end of the ship kicking hard left. McCoy felt his body being pushed forward by the sudden loss of momentum, and despite the tightened restraint, his ass was pressed up against the left armrest of the seat. Instinct told him to reach for his daughter. McCoy threw his arm over her body protectively in a vain effort to shield her. Jo shrank back in her seat and whimpered silently.

"Daddy?" she asked tentatively. Jo knew she was no wimp, but right now, she really wished she had her favorite stuffed teddy bear. The shuttle she rode in on the way to California was fun. The ride to spacedock had been fun. Captain Pike let her sit up front as long as she promised not to touch anything and he told her what the buttons did. But this ride was not fun, nor was it as cool as the one with Mr. Chris. She was scared, but she didn't want to cry. Instead, she gripped her father's wrist with her tiny hand. "What's going on?"

McCoy looked down at his daughter and tried to mask the gut-wrenching, pit-of-his-stomach terror that was cascading through his mind. It would do Joanna no good to see her father panic. He swallowed the lump in his throat as the shuttle gave a massive shake and then sank a few hundred feet. He squeezed her hand back and smiled weakly. Praying his voice didn't tremble or crack, he answered, "I don't know, baby. But we're going to be okay."

"How do you know?"

He hated lying to her. But right now, it was as much about assuring himself as it was keeping his daughter calm. "I just know. Starfleet doesn't take bad people to fly their ships, even the shuttles." McCoy closed his eyes as soon as the sentence cleared his mouth, because he really hoped he was right.

The washboard turbulent ride only lasted for about ten seconds, and then, the shuttle went strangely quiet. Not even the pilot was making so much as a sound, aside from the flipping of switches and the rapid click-click-tap as he accessed data from a PADD strapped to his leg. The rest of the passengers, a security team from spacedock, all sat silently in their chairs. They looked strangely unaffected, but McCoy's medical training allowed him the luxury of noticing the smallest physiological details. The white knuckles, the short, choppy breaths and the widened eyes of his companions all gave away clearly their fear. He looked into their faces and saw the multitude of his own emotions staring right back.

The cockpit was clearly visible to McCoy from where he sat, and he craned his neck around to get a better view. But as he did that, he felt the shuttle begin tipping to the right, like someone had taken out the supports to the right side of the craft. It was a maneuver the old war planes of the 20th and 21st century often executed when they were fighting in the skies with another aircraft. McCoy had seen it in books and on films, but never felt it in real life. The bank started out slight but became more pronounced as the seconds ticked by. Joanna screamed in his ear when the shuttle passed forty degrees of right tilt. At that angle, the passengers were trying desperately to hold onto something tied down so they wouldn't slip out of their seats.

Looking out the window, Leonard felt a sudden rush of confusion. There was clearly a problem with the shuttle. Control was minimal, and lord only knew what was wrong with the propulsion system. Logic dictated that they'd immediately head back down to the safety of the ground, but they were inexorably climbing. And the shuttle kept banking steeply to the right, tilted like a seesaw with only one person sitting on it. He was sure they were going to roll over and then tumble from the skies when Leonard heard the right engine fire up. The whine from nacelle was music to his ears, because it meant that something aboard the Godforsaken piece of shit was working.

Slowly but surely, the right side of the shuttle began to come up and at the same time, he saw the horizon out the window level off and then slowly pitch down. He had no clue what was going on, but all he knew was that the craft didn't feel like it was going to roll over and crash any more. McCoy felt the telltale pop in his ears as the craft descended lower toward the planet's surface. He heard one of the other passengers mutter something about differential thrust, and he hoped that was referring to a temporary method of steering the pilot was employing, rather than the only thing they had.

Before, he could feel they were climbing. Now, after the shuttle leveled out, it felt like they were dropping, and dropping fast. McCoy saw the clouds rush past and he heard the strain from the engines to keep the craft level, but he could still feel a slight bank to the right. They were still turning. Somewhere in the back of his mind, the logical part screamed that they were in trouble, but with Jo sitting next to him, he refused to believe it. Len's eyes darted around the cabin, hoping to find any clue that the pilot was regaining control of the obviously crippled ship.

The next words McCoy heard from the flight deck made his blood run cold.

Up in the cockpit, their young pilot was struggling to keep the craft level and in flight. He radioed in a very controlled, "Mayday, mayday, mayday. This is Trainer 797. We are experiencing a total loss of flight input controls. Power has been compromised. We have had some type of onboard failure. Flight control inputs are unresponsive. I say again, I have no attitude control."

A couple of gasps from the passengers sitting closest to the cockpit door were audible over the deathly silence of the shuttle. The pilot heard them and clicked on the public address system before a full scale panic could engulf the entire interior of the craft. "Folks, I want to be honest with you," he began in a no nonsense fashion. "We are experiencing a failure of some kind. I still have a rudimentary way of controlling the craft, but we're going to need to make an emergency landing a soon as possible. It's going to be a hard one, and I need you all to do exactly as I say, when I say it. When I say 'brace', I want you all to put your heads down as close to your laps as you can get them. We'll be on the ground shortly."

Len clenched his jaw while the speaker to the PA system cut out. This was not good, and he'd have given his right arm for Joanna to be anywhere but on the shuttle with him at that very moment. Why didn't he just have Pike fly her back down? Why did he have to go get her? Why this shuttle, of all things? But, he didn't have time to dwell on regret. If he wanted his daughter to live, he needed to put into action the instructions given by the pilot, and hope that God didn't want Jo yet.

The surface was speeding closer, and McCoy could make out the campus of the Academy through the cockpit window. It was tiny, but there was no mistaking their heading. From their altitude, the buildings looked like play toys and the few people he could see resembled little ants. A few miles in the distance, Len could see the landing pads and the old runways of the outdoor shuttle port. Logically, McCoy knew the importance of making the landing pads. If they'd put out a mayday, then the hospital would have been alerted to a shuttle in distress and would have prepared for any scenario they could think of. Emergency extraction teams would be mobilized, as well as fire and rescue squads. But, everything was at the landing pad.

The pilot's next words solidified his thoughts. "We have to make the pad! I see it! We're gonna make that landing pad!" the pilot yelled over his shoulder to his flight officer. "We do that, we've got a chance!" The open cockpit door gave McCoy a clear line of sight the flurry of activity. He wished like hell he knew more about flight controls, or flying in general. He knew that, even if he had learned to fly, there would be little to nothing he could offer, but at least he wouldn't be sitting helplessly on his hands.

The landing pad's 'X' loomed through the cockpit windows, and McCoy took a deep breath and braced himself for impact. The tinny, automated voice of the proximity to ground warning system audible from the cockpit echoed in his ears. The 'woo-woo' of the alarm wailed and the cadenced call of 'Pull up, pull up, pull up!' bounced off the walls of the shuttle. McCoy felt almost weightless in his seat as the shuttle sank down to the surface Earth at a obscenely steep rate. The ground was zipping by, faster than he ever felt or saw before. Len knew they were going too fast – he'd never approached at this speed before. He heard the pilot firewall both throttles to maximum when the young man realized they were sinking much too quickly, but it was too little, too late. The green grass and the ocean clearly visible out the port side of the craft, just past the profile of Joanna's frightened face. Len squeezed his daughter's hand once when he felt the right side of the shuttle dip downward as it wanted to for the entire flight.

A split second later, they hit the ground.

Hard.

The craft hit the runway and then skidded. The horrible screeching of shearing and shredding metal roared in his ears. McCoy felt his body being slammed into his seat with such tremendous force that he thought the bone-jarring impact and extreme g-forces exerting pressure on his strained frame might just kill him outright. He could feel the shuttle bouncing up off the ground again, and then crashing back into the earth. Somewhere in the distance of is consciousness as the small craft began to spin and cartwheel uncontrollably, he heard Joanna's screams, and then…

…Woke up in his own bed in his room.

"Bones. Hey, Bones! Wake up!" Jim stood over McCoy and shook the man's shoulder hard. Whatever he was dreaming about, it couldn't have been pleasant. A half second later, two green-gray eyes snapped open and in that instant, Jim saw true, unadulterated terror running through them. Embarrassment followed shortly, and Kirk cocked his head to the side, stepping back and allowing his hand to fall from its former position affixed on the bare shoulder of his roommate. At the risk of asking a very stupid question, Jim carefully queried, "You okay, man? You've been muttering in your sleep for the last half hour. What's going on?"

McCoy squinted, closing his left eye and dropping the right to half-mast. Jim Kirk's worried face hovered above him. McCoy's entire body shook once, the doctor's eyes wide and frightened. He looked down at his hands, willing them to stop shaking. Saying nothing, he sat up in bed, threw the covers aside and staggered toward the bathroom. He made it to the toilet just in time to empty his entire dinner of coffee and pretzels from the night previous into the bowl, directly before his stomach decided that it wanted to turn itself inside out just for fun. He hit the flush button with his hand, and then leaned back, somehow wedging himself in the narrow recess of space that made up the area between the countertop, toilet and wall. McCoy's head hit the sheet rock when he let it fall back, a dull, hollow sound echoing off the bare walls of the room.

Kirk could hear McCoy's heart racing from down the hall. He was sure the rushing, pulsing blood coursing through the doctor's body drowned out any sound Kirk made as he approached the bathroom, or so Jim hoped. He was honestly worried; in the fourteen months since they'd arrived at Starfleet Academy, Kirk had seen Bones in just about every state: angry, sad, melancholy, drunk (a lot of that one), proud, irritated, pleased, and on the rare occasion, happy. But he'd never seen him scared, which was the only way he could describe his roommate's state at the present.

As he approached the doorway, Jim tried to make a sound so he wouldn't completely startle his already flighty friend. Poking his head inside, the worry encompassing Kirk's brain increased tenfold. McCoy was sitting, bent at the waist, left knee up against his chest and right stuck between the toilet and the countertop. His head was tilted back, eyes closed with both hands up shielding his face. Kirk asked tentatively, "Bones?"

For a few very long seconds, McCoy didn't answer. He didn't move, he didn't blink, and Kirk wasn't even sure if he was breathing he was so still. Finally, from behind the hands that shielded his face, Len said, "Jim. I think it's time I learned how to fly a shuttle."

Kirk was taken aback. Of all the things McCoy might have said, that was not even on the radar. But he also knew better than to push his best friend because Bones would just clam up if he did. He'd made the mistake of well-meaning meddling once before when he'd brought up Joanna and Jocelyn. He'd even gone so far as to comm the little girl on Bones' birthday in hopes that she'd want to say hi to her father. Jocelyn was less than pleased, and though she didn't go absolutely apeshit crazy on Jim, the look in her eyes as soon as she saw her ex in the background was enough for Kirk to know that he'd very much overstepped his bounds. One screaming, swearing argument later, McCoy stormed out the door sans comm, keys, and wallet. The result was a three day AWOL for McCoy and a frantic search by Jim and Pike to locate the doctor before he was either killed, arrested or deserted Starfleet completely. Bones eventually turned up, but to this day would not tell Kirk or Pike where he'd been or what he was doing.

Jim hated to be the guy that always stated the obvious, but when McCoy was in one of his funks, Kirk felt it was his civic duty as McCoy's BFF to set the man straight. He took a seat next to the doorframe of the bathroom and rested one of his arms on his bent knee. With as much tact as a Kirk could manage (which was none), Jim said, "Bones, you hate to fly."

McCoy's head lolled slightly to the right, looking where he could see Jim from the corner of his vision. "I know that, infant." He turned back toward the countertop. With a giant, put out sigh, Bones amended his statement. "I'll always hate it. But that doesn't mean I shouldn't learn."

"Not that I'm upset that you finally understand Starfleet operates in space, but this kind of sudden. What gives?" Jim replied, trying to keep the tone light. He could still see the visible lines of stress and worry pulling at his friend's face.

"You might say it was a little bit of an epiphany," McCoy answered cryptically. He pulled himself up off the floor of the bathroom, splashed some water on his face and made his way back to the shared living quarters. Bones sat down heavily on the bed and rolled his neck. He was still wound up and tense, and he knew Jim could see it. But there was nothing he could do about it, so he hoped the kid would at least have the common courtesy to leave it alone for the night. He activated the holo of Joanna he kept on the bookshelf next to his bed and stared at it, smiling ever so slightly.

Kirk wandered up and stood at the entrance to the main room. He leaned up against the door frame and watched as his roommate zapped the holo after a few long seconds and then retrieved the bottle of Kentucky bourbon from his desk. He set it next to Jo's holo and stepped back.

"What's that for?" Kirk asked when his curiosity couldn't contain itself any longer.

McCoy shrugged. "It's a reminder," he said and then crawled back in bed.

Kirk furrowed his brows but did the same, ordering the lights off when he settled in. he laid awake the rest of the night, thinking about McCoy's strange dream and even stranger reaction. Sometime just before sunrise, he grew frustrated, slipped silently out of bed, and threw on some PT clothes to go for a run. He passed McCoy's bed on the way out the door. He was happy to see the older man was dead to the world, and quite a bit more at peace than he'd been a few hours earlier.

Using the miles to help sort out his thoughts, Jim wondered what exactly McCoy was dreaming about before he'd woken him. Kirk caught snippets of it; every once in a while, Bones would actually say something that was intelligible, but mostly it was just grunts and whines and small whimpers that came from the sleeping doctor. Jim knew it had to have something to do with Joanna, but he couldn't quite figure out why McCoy had this sudden urge to learn to fly when the entire campus knew how terrified he was of shuttles. Nothing was meshing, and it was bothering him.

As the sun crested the horizon, Jim trudged up the stairs to his room, still no closer to finding the solution to his friend's erratic behavior. He punched in his code and, waiting for the somewhat temperamental door to slide open, leaned against the frame. He nearly jumped in surprise when he saw McCoy was not only awake, but showered, dressed and on the desktop comm. Kirk checked his watch. 0600. McCoy was not a morning person, and usually would sleep until the very last second if allowed. The fact that he was up and at 'em voluntarily spoke volumes about the importance of…whatever he was doing.

But as Jim looked closer, the reasoning for McCoy's madness was clear. Kirk's face broke out into broad smile as a five year old Joanna McCoy bounced happily in front of the viewscreen on the other end of the connection, babbling away to her dad about learning to ride a horse. In the background, Jocelyn Darnell watched carefully, a small smile tugging at her lips. Jim looked at the face of Bones' ex. He could see that she wasn't exactly pleased, but she wasn't swearing at him, either. She looked almost…civil. And Bones. Kirk couldn't wait to go to advanced tactics, if only to tell Pike of the new developments.

McCoy was smiling and laughing.

Jim tried to stay silent, but his shoulder accidentally bumped the whiteboard that hung next to the door, the one that housed the chore list for the room. McCoy swiveled around in his chair, eyebrow raised and amused smirk on his lips. He turned back toward the comm, said something to Jocelyn Kirk couldn't hear, and then cut the connection.

Kirk took two steps into the room, feeling like an intruder in his own room. "Bones, I didn't want to interrupt. I mean, you didn't have to end the call."

"It's okay. She needed to get going anyway," McCoy said with an air of nonchalance, gathering his books and preparing for the day ahead. He responded to Kirk's question and his sudden comm of Jocelyn as if it were nothing, as if it weren't a big deal.

"Okay, hold it. These last six hours have been really strange. You guys hated each other a few weeks ago. You thought she wanted to castrate you, and now you're talking like nothing ever happened. Help a confused brother out," Jim said dumbly. He could have slapped himself for being such an insensitive ass, but a highly developed brain to mouth filter wasn't exactly a Kirk trait.

"No, we weren't, but we both realized that it's stupid for us to be fighting like we were when Jo's stuck in the middle. We had to grow up, for her sake. I don't want my kid growing up thinking she has to choose a side for which parent she hates less," the doctor answered honestly.

Although Jim was happy that McCoy and Jocelyn were finally talking, it still didn't add up. Kirk grabbed McCoy's arm when his roommate tried to bustle past. He looked the man directly in the eyes, searching them for any type of reasoning for the sudden about face. "Bones, what's really going on? What happened last night? Why the sudden civility? And what's with your need to learn to fly? I mean, not that I won't teach you, but you hate it! You hate everything about flying!"

McCoy sighed and then sat down on his unmade bed. "That was step one, talking to Joss. It was overdue, but you know that. We should have done this a long time ago." He was silent for a couple of minutes, contemplating what to say. He yanked at a hangnail on his right thumb, wincing when he pulled the piece of skin free. The cut bubbled up with bright red blood, but Bones ignored it. Without looking at Kirk, McCoy asked, "What's your biggest fear, Jim?" Before Kirk could answer the clearly rhetorical question, McCoy added, "Mine's not being in control. Or being helpless. Take your pick. Probably a big reason why I'm a doctor."

A thousand different thoughts converged in Jim's brain all at once, each one fighting to be labeled and compartmentalized before heading off to be neatly packaged as the whole picture of the puzzle. Kirk forced his brain to slow down and slowly, the stream evened out which allowed he think clearly. As he went through the evidence piece by piece, the light bulbs started going off in his head. He knew what Bones was getting at, and how hard it was for him to admit it. Things were making a little bit more sense, but the picture was by no means completely clear. He needed just a little bit more. "And that dream last night? Was that about…" Jim trailed off, letting the sentence hang in the air. He hoped maybe an opened ended question would prompt McCoy to talk about whatever crawled under his saddle and died.

"Jo," Bones replied tightly, still focused on nothing but his hands.

"Aha," Kirk replied, sensing that he was going to get nothing more from his tight-lipped roommate. Jim nodded silently and patted McCoy on the shoulder. He took in the tense shoulder and clenched jaw, knowing that his friends needed a few minutes to compose himself. Kirk hopped off his bed and made his way to the bathroom to shower and change for the day. As he went through his morning routine, Jim thought about what McCoy just said and how it related to the incongruous event the night previous.

Whatever happened, Jim knew he wasn't about to get the full story any time soon. He could probably take a few stabs at what happened in Bones' stream of semi-consciousness and be reasonably close, but that wouldn't be proper. All he knew was that McCoy had a dream about something, and if it scared him enough to want both mend his fractured relationship with his ex and learn to fly a shuttle, it had to be a hell of nightmare.

Jim was glad both his best friend and his best friend's ex were finally pulling their heads out of their asses. Kirk wasn't exactly annoyed per say, but the pattern was almost cyclical. McCoy, Jim thought, should consider a separate career in acting, because the man was damned good at pretending the lack of relationship with his only child didn't bother him much at all. For a month or so, Bones would go about his life while pretending it didn't hurt to leave Joanna behind in Georgia. He'd make his rounds, pull his shifts, do his coursework, and act like it was the most natural choice he'd made. But then, something would remind him of Jo and he'd crawl into a bottle for the night to forget the pain and hurt, even if it was only for a few hours. His hangover the next day was his punishment for his own perceived inadequacies as a husband and a father, and he accepted it as something that just happened.

The expectation, because of the established history, was that McCoy would reach straight for the bourbon on his desk as soon as Kirk woke him. Jim's heart sank a bit when Bones beelined for it. But he couldn't help the open shock when, instead of taking one long gulp straight from the bottle, he put it next to the holo of Jo instead. Jim was starting to understand what Bones meant by how it was, "Reminder."

It was a reminder of what he'd lost, but also what he could still gain back.

His face covered in shaving cream, Jim laughed out loud. He got it. It made sense now. The twinkle in his eyes was obvious as he finished up his routine and then cleaned up the sink. He pulled on a fresh t-shirt and buckled his pants. Rounding the corner in their room on the way to the closet, Kirk vowed that he would do whatever he could to help facilitate some sort of reconciliation between Jocelyn and Bones. He would also put good credits that Captain Pike would stand right next to him on that.

Jim peeked out into the living area of their room. McCoy's face would probably wear the perma-scowl for the entirety of his life, but his step had a lightness to it, an assuredness that it certainly lacked before. Jim knew it wouldn't be an easy road; he had firsthand knowledge how hard it was to be inexorably tied to a military officer, but he thought McCoy would make it. He had friends and colleagues who supported him, and an entire network that would be willing to help. The only thing that could possibly derail a successful resolution was the literal end of the world, but that wasn't bloody likely.

As he was throwing on his shoes and scrambling to find the Warp Theory PADD he'd tossed across the room the night before, Jim had a thought. He sincerely hoped that taking steps in the right direction to cure the absence of Joanna in his life meant Bones would get to see his daughter at some point during their stay at the Academy. Not only would it be good for the man, Kirk admitted to some slightly selfish urges to spoil the miniature McCoy as much as humanly possible. Not that he'd want a little bit of payback for all those uncomfortable physicals Bones always insisted he needed. No, not at all. Jim wasn't the type of person to do something that underhanded.

Bones must have read his thoughts, which in Jim's mind, was not necessarily a good thing. It meant that he and Bones were getting to know each other more they probably ought to. Right as Kirk was walking toward the door of their room to head off for class, a broad hand stopped him from exiting. When Jim looked into McCoy's eyes, there was no trace of the earlier bit of melancholy, only a bit of playfulness that often lacked in Bones' demeanor. In his most officious doctor voice, McCoy said, "Jim? If you ever meet my daughter, she'd better not learn a damned thing about sex from you. I'm her father, and I get to have the talk with her." Grabbing his books from the desk, McCoy added, "When she's forty."

Jim smiled and picked up his PADD and comm from his desk. Kirk always wanted a younger sibling he could corrupt, and that thinly veiled threat from McCoy sounded distinctly like a challenge. Since he was a Kirk, he didn't believe in no-win scenarios. He just hoped Bones was less lethal with his fists than he was with the damned hyposprays. Idly, Jim wondered just how many different vaccines were out there that McCoy could give him before he had a reaction to something. The answer was probably 'a lot' but it would be worth every single one of them just to spoil the hell out of Bones' kid. It was bound to be a rough job, but someone had to do it.

-FIN-

Author's Note (Supplemental): I hope you all have enjoyed the ride for this one. As per the usual, it started off as one idea and then completely veered off into another part of the galaxy. But, I learned long ago not to force the muses. I let them go where they like, and hope that the result isn't too bloody awful. Whatever your feelings, whether you loved it, hated it, or just though, "Meh," a comment would be lovely! Thanks for reading!