JOJO's Big Adventure

Chapter 4: To Sickbay!

Dr. McCoy's headache throbbed mercilessly, his temples pulsating in time with the blood coursing through his veins. The remnants of alcohol in his system only served to aggravate the pain further. He longed for the comfort of his bed, but as he glanced down at the tiny figure squirming between his fingers, he knew that sleep would have to wait.

"Alright, Jo," he muttered, his voice hoarse from the night's indulgences. "We need to get you to security so you can give a statement. Then I'll take you to Sick Bay for a check-up. Doctor M'Benga will look after you tonight."

His daughter's minuscule form continued to wriggle, her movements frantic. McCoy couldn't help but feel a sense of urgency; time was of the essence. Once Joanna had given her statement, he could take her to sick bay for a check-up. Dr. M'Benga would have to oversee her care tonight – McCoy wasn't sober enough to provide an adequate assessment of any potential side effects from the shrinking. As much as he wanted to keep her by his side, he knew it was best to leave her in capable hands.

"Alright, kiddo," he sighed, lifting her towards his chest pocket. "In you go."

Her wiggling intensified, accompanied by high-pitched squeaks that were barely audible. Frustration set in as McCoy pinched the bridge of his nose, desperately trying to make out her words. He certainly wasn't sober enough for this.

"Darlin', Daddy's got a headache like you wouldn't believe. Can you please just hold still?"

She glared up at him defiantly, her eyes wide with fear and determination. "I don't want to ride in your pocket!" she screamed, her tiny voice finally breaking through the haze of his inebriation.

His breath caught in his throat, and he exhaled sharply, blowing her hair out of her face. Despite her predicament, she was still his stubborn little girl, and he couldn't help but feel a mix of frustration and affection for her.

"Look, sweetheart," he said firmly, "I need to put you in my pocket for now. I promise I'll find a better way to carry you later, but right now, we don't have time to argue."

With determination set in his jaw, McCoy slipped her struggling form into his chest pocket, feeling the tiny weight of his daughter pressing against his heart. He could feel her resentment, her tiny fists balled in fury.

"Alright," he muttered more to himself than to Joanna, steeling himself for the long night ahead. "Let's go see if we can catch the person who did this to you."

McCoy couldn't help but feel the sting of guilt and fear, he hoped he could fix this mess. The sensation of her tiny fists and feet punching and kicking against his chest only served to remind him of how much was at stake – and how ill-equipped he felt to handle it all.

"Security first, then sick bay," he repeated the plan in his mind like a mantra, hoping it would somehow make everything right again. With each heavy step toward the door, he was acutely aware of the tiny life nestled against his heart, fueling his resolve to see this nightmare through to its end.

The relentless struggle against his chest fueled a trickle of anger within McCoy. He could feel Joanna's tiny fists and feet pummeling him, her three-inch body a defiant force to be reckoned with. If she were full-sized, he'd have no qualms about taking her across his knee for a well-deserved whooping, but at this size, his shaking hands posed too great a risk.

"Joanna," he said firmly, laying a hand over his chest pocket, pressing down lightly against the tiny form hidden beneath the fabric. A small squeak reached his ears, and her struggling ceased. "You need to be good and stay still. I'll try to figure out a better way to travel next time, but right now, you need to stay put."