Bones that were reaped

When losing family

. . . 2069. . . April 10th . . .

. . . Elderly hospital . . .

"John. . ." Came the voice of a old woman calling for a man.

A man sat down into a chair and took her skinny little hand. He was young, dark brown hair, he had recently shaven, and seemed to be . . . Bones. Except this man was not Bones. He was John 'Reaper' Grimm. Sole survivor of the original RRTS. In this time frame he referred to himself as Reaper before making a new identity and going through shit.

"I am here, Sam." Reaper said.

Samantha was a old woman.

Reaper was 'Bill' back then but . . . But he was always John Grimm to Samantha. Always. He was fresh on his new identity, perfecting a French accent, pretending that he just recently immigrated to America. Samantha looked up toward with him awe and respect, family, comfort, and warmth as she had years ago. She squeezed the hand of her brother.

"You look so young." Samantha said.

"You look old." Reaper replied.

Samantha had a short laugh followed by a cough.

"How's life been treating you?" Samantha asked.

"I just made a new identity for myself," Reaper said. "Robert James William!" He then added with a french accent, "And there's more where it came from."

Samantha smiled.

"You are going to keep saving the world?" Samantha asked.

"Yes, Sam," Reaper replied. "I am."

"Do you have a wife?" Samantha asked, again.

Reaper shook his head.

"No," Reaper said. "And I never intend to do so."

"Don't be so melodramatic by your extended life span," Samantha said. "I want you to make a life out of it. Perhaps be a doctor!"

Her doctor, his name was Leonard McCoy, a older man in his sixties with graying hair and he had a wedding ring on his index finger. He came into the room with a grave look. Doctor McCoy held the padd in his hand. Reaper smiled, with a nod, to his twin sister. He let go of her hand then approached Doctor McCoy. The two went out of the room then went beside the wall across from the door.

"How long?" Reaper asked, softly.

"A few hours," Doctor McCoy said. "There isn't much we can do." He had a sigh. "Today is her last day. . . Mr?"

"Mr Williams," Reaper said. "Call me Bill. She is a family friend."

"I am so sorry, Mr Williams." Doctor McCoy said.

Doctor McCoy left.

Reaper went back into the room, sat back down, and kept his cool.

"So why do you think I'll make a great doctor?" Reaper asked.

"Remember how you tried to save Goat?" Samantha asked.

"Yeah, I do," Reaper said softly. "Haven't forgotten."'

Samantha's hand took his and squeezed it.

"You got the skills to save people, you just need to sharpen them, besides, you'll make a great immortal doctor." Samantha said.

"Hah, I don't have a name for a doctor related profession." Reaper said.

"My doctor. . ." Samantha said.

Reaper raised a eyebrow.

"Leonard McCoy?"

"Leonard H McCoy."

"Leonard Hell McCoy? No, I am sorry, but that wouldn't be professional."

"Leonard Horatio McCoy."

"I will stick with the Leonard H McCoy name."

"You would make good use of that, John."

Reaper smiled.

"If I see our parents . . . I will tell dad you miss him." Samantha said.

Reaper squeezed her hand.

"You do that, Sam," Reaper said. "And explain why I cannot come."

"You are . . . my brother. . . You have and always will be a . . . Grimm." He could feel a tear come down his face. "One day . . . I'll see you up there."

Her grip loosened on Reaper's hand and her head turned the other way. Her vitals flatlined. Reaper lowered his head then let go her hand and cried into his hands. One day . . . He will pick that name. One day he'll use a name tied to that wretched facility known as Olduvai. The bones of the martians ruined his life. Bones. That name. Leonard H McCoy, mostly called 'Bones' by his friends, a medical professional. Then he will never use it again. He will only use it once in the honor of his sister. A sister who was left paralyzed due to Sarge's attack. For now, for the safety of everyone, he had to lay low. No blood-tests. No vaccines as he is relatively superhuman. Immune to anything in particular.

Reaper will never meet his loved ones again.

Not unless the universe ended.

If there could be a cure . . . The 24th chromosome was permanent.

Change cannot be undone.

There was no cure for that.

Reaper closed the eyes of Samantha. His twin. Seven minutes older than him. For now . . . Reaper had to keep the world safe by not allowing himself to be tested, experimented on, or be thrown out into the open that he has a certain chromosome in his blood capable of creating ugly mutations to human appealing beings. The chromosome looked for specific markers quite possibly connected to the soul. It looked out for the negative. No negative? No infection. Simple as that.

When he came to his flat, Reaper slid his back down and cried some more.

And he was all alone from here on out.

Utterly alone.