He'd asked what she knew about his father, but Uhura hadn't known anything and therefore hadn't even imagined that it would be this. Still, looking at the frail old man, she felt for him and his pain, the pain of his family no doubt in agony watching him decay, but knew that people died, parents died. It was the way of life.

She would have scurried out obediently, not one to risk the good doctor's wrath on something so personal and close to the heart, but Jim's response to the senior McCoy's question made her reconsider. If anything, Jim knew his Bones better, knew where to push and where to back off, and if the old man asked, then he had the right to know.

"And I'm Uhura, sir. Also a friend of your fine son."