All Things Inherit – Three – DizzyDrea

True to his word, Boyce had left a carafe of coffee for her at the Nurse’s station. That first sip was pure bliss. It was one of her favorites, so she took the carafe and her mug to the small break room around the corner and ordered breakfast from the replicator, even though it was the middle of the afternoon.

She sat down at a table in the corner and pulled up the feed from Pike’s Recovery bed as she plowed through the scrambled eggs and sausage she’d chosen. On the whole, he was looking better than she’d expected. The staff in Recovery had opted to leave the decision to transfer him to a private bed to her, so she took her time sifting through his chart, looking at his progress throughout the morning and into the afternoon.

Satisfied with his progress, she sat back and scrolled through her messages while she finished the coffee. Most of it was stuff she could push off. There was a message from April, copying her on correspondence he’d had with Captain Chin-Riley on Pike’s condition. She replied with a rundown of what she’d seen in his chart and her expectations for the next few days. She replied to a few other messages, including one from her mother, and then closed the program to check on her patient.

When she arrived at his bed, Christine was already there. “How much sleep did you get?”

“About six hours,” Christine said as she checked over their patient. “I’ve only been up for about an hour. I let you be because you were still sound asleep, and after the day you had, you needed all the rest you could get.”

“Fair,” Len said. “I looked over his chart while I was eating. He’s looking pretty good. I think we can transfer him to a private room at this point, though I still want 24-hour monitoring for a while, so we’ll have to run shifts on a dedicated nurse for him.”

“I’ll get a schedule together,” Christine said. “I know who I can pull in for this. There are a few trauma nurses who would be ideal. They won’t say no to extra hours. Do we need to run it by anyone first?”

“Probably,” Len said. She picked up her PADD and thumbed open her messages app. “I’ll contact Phil Boyce. Given his relationship with Pike, I imagine he’ll be willing to authorize basically anything I ask for at this point.”

“Should you be doing that?” Christine asked. “Leveraging relationships that way, I mean.”

Len shrugged. “Probably not. But here’s the thing: Pike’s a big damn hero, right? He led the Starfleet response to Nero’s attack on Vulcan. I read those reports. If it wasn’t for him, the fleet would have been destroyed, and who knows what would have happened to Vulcan. So, I doubt ‘Fleet wants anything bad to happen to their golden boy. I’m going to leverage the fuck out of that, as long as it keeps my patient alive.”

Christine’s eyes went wide, but she just nodded mutely.

“Let’s get him moved now, and then we can make a plan for the next few days,” Len said.

She finished her message to Boyce and set aside her PADD. Christine went to get a gurney while Len talked to the attending physician in Recovery about the transfer. Fifteen minutes later, Pike was ensconced in a bio bed in the ICU on the 18th floor of the hospital.

The room was spacious, all things considered. There was a small sitting area in the corner near the windows, and a full suite of monitoring equipment in addition to the bio bed’s systems. Instead of a solid door, there was a force field that kept the room sterile and sterilized everyone who passed through on their way in or out. Just outside the room, there was a small monitoring station where the dedicated nurse would sit, once they had approval and recruited enough nurses to run shifts.

Len was adjusting Pike on the bed when her hackles went up. She turned around and saw three people headed her direction, none of whom were wearing Starfleet uniforms.

“Who are they?” Christine asked.

“No clue,” Len said. “That’s what bothers me.”

All three passed through the force field without so much as a by your leave. The taller of the three stepped forward and inclined his head toward Len. He was a Sentinel, something she discerned the second he passed through the force field. The other two were Guides. She suspected one of them was his, because the other one was unbonded, which made her suspicious.

“Guide McCoy,” he said. “My name is Sentinel Forbes. I’m here to take custody of Sentinel Pike.”

“It’s Doctor McCoy,” Len said, irritated at the presumption. Not all Sentinels and Guides wanted to be addressed by their status instead of whatever rank or position they’d earned through study and hard work. “And you’re not taking my patient anywhere.”

“He can get whatever treatment he needs at the S&G Center’s medical facilities,” Forbes said. “We take care of our own, as you must know.”

Len narrowed her eyes at him. She had no idea how the Center had found out about Pike, but that wasn’t her concern. Making sure her patient—her Sentinel—didn’t die because of the stupidity of others was.

“Captain Pike is less than 36 hours out from a near-fatal injury,” she said. “He’s going nowhere for at least a week. After that, he’ll graduate to a regular room in this hospital until I’m satisfied that he’s well enough to be discharged to a rehab facility. His progress from that point will dictate how soon he’ll be able to return to duty. I’m sure you understand.”

“And I’m sure you understand that we can’t allow one of our own to be treated by mundanes,” Forbes said.

“Then it’s fortunate for you that I’m his physician of record,” Len said, raising one eyebrow. “Unless you’d like to argue that I don’t count because I’d rather call myself Doctor than Guide?”

“You’ll have to go home to rest at some point, Doctor,” Forbes said. “The doctor who will oversee his care when you leave is not a Sentinel or a Guide. We find that unacceptable.”

“I don’t really care,” Len said. “He’s not leaving this hospital until I say he’s ready. Now, you could take this to court and try to sue for custody of the captain, but you’ll have to fight Starfleet to do it. How much do you want that fight?”

“You don’t seem to understand,” Forbes said. “We’re not asking. You can say whatever you want, but when I leave, I’m taking Sentinel Pike with me.”

“Like hell you are,” Len said.

She narrowed her eyes at him, allowing her shields to thin as she took the measure of the man before her. What she sensed almost made her gag. Pure, bald avarice. He wanted Pike desperately, but his intentions weren’t exactly pure. She glanced at the Guides behind him, giving each of them a cursory scan. The unbonded Guide flinched at her mental touch, which was telling all on its own.

Suddenly, she heard a moan from behind her. When she turned around, she found Pike had rolled partially on his side, toward her, and seemed to be reaching out to her with both his hand and his mind. She took his hand in hers as several things clicked together in her mind. She took a deep, startled breath.

She turned back to the team from the S&G Center and pushed mentally at them until they were all forced to take a few steps back. Her wolf appeared at her side, and a black wolf appeared on her other side, both considerably larger than a typical wolf in the wild.

“Jesus,” one of the Guides muttered.

“You’ll have to find another way to get what you want,” Len said, steely-eyed and firm, letting them all see her for who she really was. “You’re not taking him with you, not on my watch. Now, get out. All of you.”

“Doctor McCoy—”

“The doctor asked you to leave. I suggest you do as you’re told.”

Everyone turned toward the new voice. The security guard standing just inside the force field had a deeply unamused look on his face, and he looked like he was ready to start knocking heads together. Len was grateful he’d shown up when he did. She could have taken down the S&G team, but it would have been painful. For them and for her.

“Federation law stipulates that we may take custody of any Sentinel or Guide in distress,” Forbes said.

Len thought he was being particularly brave—or particularly stupid, she wasn’t sure which.

“Federation law also says that service to Starfleet supersedes any outside commitments, including service to the Cascadia Foundation,” the guard said. “You have no jurisdiction here, and no authority. I suggest you leave before I have to escort you out.”

Len glanced over his shoulder and saw three more big, burly security guards in the ICU. She looked at the guard, who just nodded at her. When she turned to look at Christine, who was still standing on the other side of Pike’s bed, she just shrugged.

“What? They were freaking me out,” she said. “I figure they must have either snuck into the building, or talked someone into inviting them in. Either way, they’re not on the approved list for the ICU, so they needed to go.”

The wolves chose that moment to growl at their unwanted visitors. All three paled. Forbes looked at Len with venom, but another low growl from the black wolf caused him to school his expression into something a bit less threatening.

“Very well, Doctor McCoy,” he said. “We’ll leave. For now. But this isn’t over yet. We will not allow one of our own to be mistreated. We’ll be back with a court order, at which time you’ll have no choice but to turn him over to us.”

All three turned as one and left, walking right past the guard without so much as a courtesy nod. He looked at the rest of the security team, who nodded their agreement and followed the other three out. The guard who’d come to their rescue took up a position just outside Pike’s room, turned to face the ICU entrance, and placed himself between them and any danger that might walk through the door.

“You wanna tell me what just happened?” Christine asked once they’d gone.

Len let out a heavy sigh. Both wolves nudged her, rubbing their heads against her thighs before they faded from view. She turned around and looked at her friend. “I let them seeme, which also allowed me to see them as well. Whatever they have in mind for Captain Pike, it wasn’t going to be good. Do you know how they found out about him?”

“You didn’t tell them?” Christine asked.

“No, I didn’t,” Len said. “We’re not required to register with the Foundation when we come online. They encourage it because they have the resources to teach us how to use our gifts, and most people do, but they can’t demand it. And they have no right to force a Sentinel or Guide to seek treatment at a Foundation facility for any reason.”

“So how did they find out?” Christine asked. “As far as I can tell, our systems are secure. The security software isn’t reporting any issues or breaches, so they didn’t hack us.”

“And you know that how?” Len asked, raising an eyebrow.

She held up a PADD. “I asked. IT hasn’t had a reported incursion to our systems in months, and the last one was a kid with too much time on his hands.”

“So, they didn’t hack us,” Len said.

“I’d put my money on Robards,” Christine said. “Admiral Boyce sent a message saying he’d reassigned him this morning. He wasn’t happy, mostly because he lost his supervisory role in addition to being punted out of ER. He tried to tell Boyce that you were the one who should be reassigned for not following his orders, but he essentially ignored him.

“He must have overheard us talking at some point. He seems like the type to hold on to information until it could benefit him. I guess he blamed you and tried to get revenge.”

“Great,” Len muttered. “What are the odds he comes at me again?”

“If he does, he’ll probably be fired,” Christine said. “I mean, if he can’t respect the chain of command, he has no business being in Starfleet.”

“We should probably beef up the security protocols for the ICU,” Len said. “Handprint or iris access to the whole ward would be best.”

“Agreed,” Christine said. “I’ll ask Admiral Boyce to request additional security. We don’t want a repeat of today. I’d rather not have to explain to Admiral Archer how we lost our best captain on Earth in our own damn hospital.”

“I’ll ask about alternatives to a regular room,” Len said. “Because I don’t think the security in most wards is up to the task. We’ll also need to figure out what comes next, because he may not be safe at a rehab facility.”

“Well, assuming he’s well enough to go to one, he wouldn’t be considered fragile anymore, right?” Christine asked. “So, they’d need his permission to transfer him to their medical facility. I doubt he’d go.”

“You know him better than I do,” Len said. “We should still have some backup plans in place. He really doesn’t need the S&G Center trying to hard-sell him on registering and checking into one of their facilities, and I suspect they would at least try, based on today’s misadventures.”

Len glanced down at Pike, where he lay resting in the bed. He’d relaxed back as soon as the S&G team walked out. It worried Len because he was heavily sedated, so he shouldn’t have reacted at all to anyone coming into the room. She’d have to do some research to see if there was an explanation for it other than what she currently suspected.

“You okay?” Christine asked.

“I’m—yeah, I think so,” Len said. She rubbed her temples, trying to massage away the headache that being in the same room with those people had given her. “I just wasn’t prepared for that.”

“Where’d the wolves come from?”

“The white one is Selah,” Len said. “She’s my spirit animal. I’m assuming the black one is Pike’s, though I don’t know what its name is.”

“Huh,” Christine said. “I’ve never seen a spirit animal before.”

“Typically, they don’t make themselves visible to mundanes, but I think they were trying to intimidate the Sentinel,” Len said. “They both appeared larger than normal as well, which is also an intimidation tactic. Selah was worried about what I was getting from the Sentinel and one of the Guides. I have no idea why the black one appeared. Since it’s not mine, I couldn’t communicate with it, but I have to think it appeared for the same reason.”

“And what were you feeling from him?” Christine asked. “The Sentinel, I mean.”

“Greed,” Len said with a shudder. “Pure, bald avarice. It was disgusting. I think they wanted to take Pike and try to… I don’t know, use him for something. Because he’s weak now, they probably thought they could manipulate him into working on their behalf.”

Christine snorted. “They don’t know him very well, or else they’d have known he can’t be manipulated, coerced, or outright brainwashed. He’s a Starfleet captain, for fuck’s sake. If he were that easily led, he’d have been bounced from the chair a long time ago.”

“And being a Sentinel will make that even more difficult in the future,” Len said. “Especially after he bonds. His Guide will help reinforce his shields and protect his mind. That makes protecting him now even more critical. He’s vulnerable as long as he’s still healing.”

“Then we’ll take care of him,” Christine said. “Starfleet takes care of its own, after all.”

“Right,” Len said.

She’d have said the same thing about the S&G community an hour ago. She needed to reach out to her mentor to see what was going on within the community these days. That might help explain what had just happened.

~0~

Len’s whole world had shrunk down to the ICU and her patient, resting comfortably on the bed. After the confrontation with the team from the S&G Center, she’d had a long conversation with Phil about their options for keeping Pike safe while he recovered. He’d agreed that a regular ward wouldn’t serve their purposes, so he’d promised to investigate alternatives and present her with a plan as soon as he had one.

The security guard who’d come to their rescue had been replaced, and they now had a rotating detail assigned to Pike. The ICU staff were taking it in stride, which she was grateful for. If anyone had protested, she’d have reached out to a friend at Emory for help, something she was keeping in her metaphorical back pocket, just in case.

True to her word, Christine had rounded up several nurses who were currently getting the download on Pike’s condition, and she had several more who’d volunteered to take shifts so they didn’t have to run anyone into the ground.

Len looked over at the nurse’s station to see who was on shift when she caught sight of a cadet coming toward Pike’s room. As he got closer, she recognized who it was. She waved him through the force field as she sat up and tugged her uniform back into place.

“Cadet Kirk, what can I do for you?” she asked. “If you’re looking for Emergency Services, you’re on the wrong floor.”

She’d treated him a few times, both for training accidents, which were common among cadets, as well as the occasional recreational injury, since he couldn’t seem to keep his competitive activities safe and sane.

“Doctor McCoy,” he said with a quick nod. “I came to check on your patient. How’s Chris doing?”

Len raised an eyebrow. “I wasn’t aware you knew the captain.”

“Oh, well, that explains why no one contacted me when he was brought in,” Kirk said. “He’s my guardian. He and my dad served together early in their careers. When my parents were killed aboard the Kelvin, Chris took custody of me.”

Len reached for her PADD and did a quick search of Pike’s records. That part of his file was locked for eyes only, so she put in a request to Admiral Boyce to grant her permission. Before she could even set the PADD aside, it was granted with a note that she should feel free to tell Kirk whatever he wanted to know.

Len huffed. “Seems like I have permission to talk to you about the captain’s condition after all.”

Kirk practically wilted in front of her, making her feel like a total asshole for being so flip about the whole situation.

“Come sit down,” she said, patting the couch beside her. He hesitated only briefly. “Oh, come on. I won’t bite, I promise.”

“Just as long as you don’t come at me with a hypo, we’re good,” Kirk said, showing a little cheek, though it was a poor effort since she could already feel the worry pouring out of him.

“So, how much do you know about what happened to him?” she asked as he got settled.

“Not much,” he said. “Admiral April sent me a comm, but I was working on a project with some classmates, so I only just read it. He said Chris was in the hospital and it wasn’t good.”

“A word of advice, kid?” When he nodded, she went on. “When someone with Admiral in their title sends you a message, read it immediately. They don’t usually send messages to cadets for no good reason.”

“Point taken,” Kirk said. “So, what happened to him?”

“Did you know about the training mission on the Lucas?” Len asked. He nodded. “So, there was a catastrophic failure of the baffle plating on the warp core. The captain ordered Engineering evacuated and was trying to eject the warp core to prevent it from destroying the whole ship. When the baffle plate nearest him failed, he was bombarded with Delta radiation. By the time he got to the hospital, he had partial-thickness burns over most of his body, and they were rapidly advancing.”

“Jesus,” he said, rubbing a hand over his face. “How come he doesn’t look like he’s been burned?”

“I treated him with a machine Starfleet acquired a month ago,” she said. “It basically saved his life, though I have no idea if he’ll ever command a starship again. Only time will tell how well he recovers, but I’m hopeful he’ll get his life back.”

“Wait, that’s the machine you won the Nobel Prize for inventing, right?” he said, looking at her with shocked awe.

“How did you know about that?” she asked.

“It’s public record,” he said by way of an answer. When she frowned at him, he shrugged. “I don’t let just any doctor work on me. After that first time, I did a deep dive into your whole life. Your daddy was a doctor, and you basically followed in his footsteps, right up until you found a cure for Delta radiation.”

“That’s not strictly legal, is it?” she asked. “I’m betting you had to hack more than one system to get what you wanted.”

“Well, yeah,” Kirk said. “But I’m an above-average hacker, so they never even knew I’d been inside their systems.”

“I don’t want to know any of this, kid,” she said, waving a hand at him.

“So, how long until we know if it worked?” he asked.

“Well, that’s the thing,” she said. “He’ll probably heal faster than the norm because, at some point during the incident, he came online as a Sentinel. So, his body is working hard to heal itself.”

“Because he’s vulnerable and the Sentinel in him can’t bear to be that vulnerable,” Kirk said. “I’m surprised he didn’t go trauma-dormant the second he was hit with the Delta rays. That’s what typically happens, right?”

“And you would know that how?” Len asked, more than a little shocked that Kirk had such a good grasp on Sentinel physiology.

“My family tree is lousy with Sentinels and Guides,” he said. “My grandfather made sure I knew what I needed to know, just in case the gift passed to me or one of my future children.”

“Huh,” she said. She leaned back on the couch and shook her head. “You don’t like not knowing things, do you?”

“I really don’t,” he said. “Shit’s going to happen to you, and ignorance won’t serve you in the long run. Chris taught me that.”

“From all accounts, he’s a good man,” Len said. “I’m glad you had him in your life.”

“And he’s lucky you were the one who caught his case,” he said. “What are the odds that you’d be the doctor on shift on the exact day he was bombarded by Delta rays, and you had the cure?”

“Approximately a billion to one.”

They both looked over to see a Vulcan male standing just inside the force field, hands clasped behind his back, looking at Captain Pike stoically.

Kirk shot to his feet. “Commander Spock. I was just leaving.”

“Hey, kid,” Len said before he could take two steps. The cadet turned around, ramrod straight and locked down. “I’ve authorized you to visit whenever you want to. Just make sure you’re not slacking on your classwork. The captain wouldn’t be pleased.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Kirk said with a sharp nod. He turned and practically fled the room.

“Excitable much?” Len muttered.

“I believe Cadet Kirk is uncomfortable discussing personal details in front of others,” Spock said.

“And yet he’s not above hacking into your personal details at the drop of a hat,” she said. “Weird kid.”

“It is an attempt to control as much as he can,” Spock said as he walked further into the room. “Losing his parents has informed much of his life, and while Captain Pike has done much for him, it is still difficult for him.”

Len narrowed her eyes. “I thought you were a science officer, not the ship’s counselor.”

“I am… a student of human behavior, being half human myself,” Spock said. “How is Captain Pike?”

Len practically got whiplash at the sharp conversational turn. “He’s better than I expected him to be. He’ll live, which is all we can ask for.”

“Indeed,” Spock said. “It is more than he expected from this day.”

“And what, exactly, do you know about this whole thing?”

Spock glanced at her. “Only what the captain has shared with me in the past. He became aware of certain events years ago. It was his understanding that he would be maimed for life as a result of this accident. I am… surprised to find that is not the case.”

“I’m surprised you’re even sharing that much with me,” Len said. “Isn’t that his personal business?”

“You are his current physician,” he said. “You should be aware of any information that has bearing on his treatment and recovery. His psychological state will be as critical to his healing process as his physical healing.”

“Well, I think the physical healing is well in hand at this point,” she said. “He came online as a Sentinel during the accident. I think it’ll be the thing that saves his life, honestly.”

“Indeed,” he said, one eyebrow raised. “I do not believe he was aware of that possibility. That will certainly change the outcome of this moment in time.”

“He wasn’t listed as a latent Sentinel in his Starfleet records, so I’m not surprised,” she said. “A lot of family lines that had Sentinels and Guides in them went extinct or dormant during the Eugenics Wars. Records were lost, and oral histories faded from memory. I think there are probably a lot of people who have no clue what’s coming for them, even this many years after the rebirth of the Sentinel and Guide.”

“Khan Noonien-Singh and his compatriots dealt a heavy blow to Earth’s population,” he said. “I suspect you will be reaping the consequences for many years yet.”

“Unfortunately, you may be right,” she said. “Did you have any questions for me?”

“I am surprised you have not tried to scan me,” Spock said.

“You’re a Vulcan,” Len said. “It’s rude to scan anyone without their permission, except in extreme circumstances. It’s even ruder to attempt it with a Vulcan, given how tightly you control your emotions. I’m a doctor, so I’m not willing to inflict my messy emotions on you without just cause. Do no harm and all that.”

“For which I thank you,” he said. “I have spoken to my father about Captain Pike.”

“And who is your father?”

“Sarek of Vulcan,” he said. “He is the current Ambassador to Earth.”

“Huh,” Len said. “That must make family dinners a bit awkward.”

“As you humans say, ‘You have no idea,'” he said. Len laughed. “He has assured me that the Vulcan High Council will work to safeguard Captain Pike for as long as necessary. He saved my world, and there are not thanks enough for such a thing.”

Len sagged a little. “Tell your father I appreciate his help. I’ve already had to deal with a greedy Sentinel wanting to take custody of the captain. It’s why there’s a guard outside his room right now. If it becomes necessary to take him off-world for his own safety, may I contact you?”

“You may,” Spock said. “T’Pau—my great-aunt and the matriarch of our clan—has placed a ship at my father’s disposal should you have need of it.”

“Thank you,” Len said. “I’m hoping it won’t be necessary, but I’d like to be prepared. Captain Pike deserves to have his ability to choose safeguarded as much as possible. I intend to stand between him and whoever thinks they can take that away, but knowing I have backup makes that a lighter burden.”

Spock looked at her, his gaze so penetrating she’d have thought he was reading her mind, except he was a touch telepath, so she knew it didn’t work that way.

“You are his Guide,” he said after a long moment.

“I am,” she said, rather than try to deny or deflect. “But he still has the ability to choose another, and I’m not going to force the issue either way. Everything from now on is at his pace.”

“I appreciate your willingness to wait, Doctor,” he said. “Chris is important to me. I would hate to see his choices taken from him.”

“Yes, I can see that he is,” she said. “If you’d like, I can keep you updated on his condition. You’re not the only one from Enterprise that’s interested.”

“I suspect his condition will garner a great deal of attention from both past and present members of the crew,” he said. “He is… an inspirational man to serve with. It has been my honor to do so for as long as I have.”

“I’m beginning to see that,” she said.

“I would like to take you up on your offer, Doctor,” Spock said. “If you should need my assistance, please do not hesitate to contact me.”

“Will do, Commander,” Len said.

Spock nodded, took one more look at Pike, then took his leave.

Len flopped back down on the couch. She rolled her head to get a better view of her patient. “You know, you’re a lot of work, even when you’re unconscious.”

She could have sworn that a faint smile crossed his lips as he lay in the bio bed.

~0~

Cast (from top left):
Anson Mount, David Strathairn, Adrian Holmes, Jess Bush, Zachary Quinto, Sam Neill, Sela Ward, Jean Reno, Damian Lewis, Stana Katic