What it means to be Doctor McCoy; these are the ways

A arrival

I've loved you all along
And I miss you
Been far away for far too long
I keep dreaming you'll be with me
And you'll never go
Stop breathing if I don't see you anymore

So far away, so far away
Been far away for far too long
So far away, so far away
Been far away for far too long
But you know, you know, you know - "Far away" by Nickleback.

--------------------------------------------

The last time Admiral McCoy had checked, it was stardate 2375. Exactly 110 years since the Enterprise sailed into deep space. He had been fortunate to walk through a corridor that had a honor guard dotting along the wall consisting of all the officers to USS Enterprise recreation on a constitution class starship built to every detail. It was normally used for other purposes that did not mean it went out into deep space. It made him get emotional on that walk. His eyes adjusted to the scenery once the transporter beamed settled down. Felt like he had been yanked from transport into another frequency of some sort that didn't feel safe reorganizing his pattern and shape. He blinked getting his vision adjusted. His vision was slightly blurry due to old age. His hands were locked behind his back. He saw the shape of two figures standing behind a wide, bulky machine. His face fell feeling the lack of Jim's loving, warming aspect to the bond. He couldn't feel it.

Jim! McCoy Prime mentally cried. NO! NO NO NO NO NOOOO!

McCoy Prime's mind reeled back in pain and agony as he kept his composure.

'I always known I would die alone', Jim once said.

Spock better been there to prove Jim long.

"Did you just beam a alien down from thin air?" came a young woman's voice.

"Oh my gods," came a young man. "I think, you did. . . madame."

"Hello," McCoy Prime painfully stepped off the rounded, but unsteady transporter padd. "I am Admiral Leonard McCoy of Earth," his legs felt so sore from standing and they were hurting. He was hurting all over in his head. Being emotional in front of two new comers was not a good idea in his mind. He should have gotten the support chair earlier on his way out. "how may I help ya?"

"My name is Ricardo, and I am the assistant to Madame Catro," Ricardo said, darting behind the tall, lean woman. McCoy realized they were light blue beings lacking hair with a odd build that was familiar to his sight. Ricardo had six fingers to each hand that were on the woman's shoulder. "she is the one who needs help."

"Oh dear," McCoy Prime said. "What planet am I on?"

"Cart-two," Catro said. "and I do not need help," she glared at Ricardo then back toward the short doctor. She had unusual characteristics such as a long chin with hollow cheeks and she reminded him like a female version of Spock only in dark attire: black lab coat, black short sleeved shirt, and what seemed to be black yoga pants. "welcome to my lab. . . I am sorry, for interrupting your travel, I was experimenting with my pet lab."

"Ah, it's fine," McCoy Prime said. "I am retired."

"Retired?" Ricardo asked.

"Yes," McCoy Prime said. "any place for little old me to sit back and relax?"

"Well, there is," Catro said. "it's off the coast of Zulhotomer."

"Zulhotomer," McCoy Prime said. "beach side, volcano, powerful winds, and somewhere ya can retire?"

"It is a place where most retired elderly go," Catro said.

"Sounds like my kind of place," McCoy Prime said.

"How old are you?" Catro asked.

"Catro!" Ricardo said.

"No," McCoy Prime said. "it's fine."

"It is disrespectful to ask someones age," Ricardo said.

"Fift-six," McCoy Prime lied, with a bounce. The doctor came to a panel. "my old le's need some rest. . ." he looked tiredly at the two taller humanoid like beings. He had long ago stopped being pissed, annoyed, and frustrated with the universe. Everything was going to work out fine. It always did. "got a walkin' stick?"

"Ricardo," Catro said.

"Yes ma'am," Ricardo darted away.

"For a elder who has lived for so long, your legs need the rest," Catro guided the man from the room with one hand on the side of his shoulder blade. "but I must warn you the place is not exactly normal by standards."

"Try me," McCoy Prime said. "I dealt with more bazaar."

"Every month elderly go missing," Catro said. "at least three and then their skeletons are found. . ." she observed the man with her eyes scanning him up and down. "if you stay there for too long given your age. . ."

McCoy laughed.

"Sounds like somethin' that me and my husbands would normally bust," McCoy said. "I can always lie that I am fifty," he shook his hand. "I look fifty and like I am havin' a bad monday."

"You do look that way," Catro said.

"And ya should focus more on achievin' warp drive than transporters," McCoy Prime said. "priorities."

"We are very close," Catro said.

"MMmh," McCoy said. "that should be your own priority."

"I got it!" Ricardo slid the wheelchair in front of the doorway toward the doctor.

"Here, doctor," Catro said.

"Thank ya," McCoy said, sitting down into the chair. He wasn't in the mood to be angry a them for giving a wheelchair. He wasn't fragile. Not at all. He was skin and whole. Healthy as a ox, a very stubborn and angry ox that was getting mellow. "wait, what planet did ya say?"

"Cart-two," Ricardo said.

"I hope Zulhotomer is not the very same one I am thinkin' of," McCoy Prime said. And he was alone, again, just like he was when he first step foot onto the Enterprise. Spock and Jim weren't there for him.