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Prompt today just so I can keep posting this is Karl Urban đ
Day 81
For someone with so much appreciation for the
humanoid (more specifically the female humanoid) anatomy Jim shows surprisingly little interest in the anatomy of species without breasts.
âI just ⌠donât get it.â
âItâs easy.â
âNo Bones, itâs not! Itâs ridiculous and you just think itâs easy, because youâre a frigging genius doctor and your brain is abnormally large or something.â Jim sounds almost offended, as if the toparan anatomy tries to be difficult on purpose, just to annoy him.
McCoy doesnât smile at that and he totally doesnât think that Jim looks cute when he pouts like a five year old. He doesnât.
âAre you honestly trying to insult my brain?â He asks instead and raises an eyebrow incredulously. âOr was that actually a pathetic attempt at a compliment?â
âI âŚâ Jim pauses mid-rant. âI donât know,â he admits and runs a hand over his face. âIt doesnât matter. I donât get it and I think itâs stupid. Maybe Iâm stupid.â He sounds nonchalant. Anybody who doesnât know him as well as McCoy does, wouldâve probably think he tries to be funny. Unfortunately heâs not joking.
McCoy doesnât know why and he doesnât know how, but somewhere along the way and beneath all his false bravado and cocky exterior Jim Kirk has gotten the fixed idea thatâs heâs a complete screw-up. He doesnât talk about it and most of the time he doesnât even mention it, but McCoy thinks he has a pretty good idea by now.
Itâs in casual remarks and random comments Jim offers every now and then. Itâs in the way Jim blushes uncomfortably and ducks his head when someone praises him for an above-average performance as if he doesnât deserve it. And itâs in the way he constantly feels the need to prove himself.
He knows that Jim has way more emotional baggage than he lets on and heâs pretty sure he doesnât even know the half of it.
âYouâre not stupid,â he simply says.
Jim throws him a lopsided grin and shrugs as if it doesnât matter. âWhatever. Letâs go out tonight! I need to stop thinking about livers and brains and the intestinal tract on the wrong place.â He shudders. âItâs disgusting anyway. Whatâs so fascinating about a species where women and men look completely alike anyway? There are not even breasts! Itâs boring.â
âWhy did I know youâd say that?â
âBecause itâs true? Now, get a move on, Bones.â
McCoy crosses his arms over his chest and tries to look stern. âYou called my brain abnormally large and now you want to go on a drink with me? Yeah, I donât think so, buddy.â
âI swear, I didnât mean it like that.â Jim put an arm around his shoulder. His silly grin is infectious. âIâm sure your brain is an ample beauty. All the other brains are jealous of its voluptuous curves and âŚ.â
McCoy rolls his eyes. âWhy do I even know you?â He lets himself get dragged away and sighs. âTomorrow Iâll make you learn all the damn parts of intestinal tract, I swear.â
Day 82
The next day they donât get to learn the damn parts of the intestinal tract after all because Jim is busy puking his guts out.
Damn it, Jim.
McCoy is close to torture him with in-depth descriptions of the Toparan digestion process (which is kind of disgusting, even when youâre a professional), because itâs Jimâs own damn fault for getting stupidly drunk last night.
But then Jim looks at him all pale and sweaty and miserable and he just canât do it. Instead he runs a hand over his face, sighs and guides Jimâs shivering form to the couch.
ââM sorry,â Jim rasps. âDidnât mean to screw up learningâŚâ He blinks tiredly, eyes huge and dark in his white face, and something tugs painfully at Bones intestines. Or maybe itâs his heart.
âItâs okay,â he replies and itâs supposed to sound gruff, except that it doesnât. âI didnât feel like learning anyway.â
After covering Jim with the soft fuzzy blanket he sits down next to him. He spends the rest of the day watching Jim sleep and he doesnât think of intestinal tracts or the upcoming exam at all.
Day 83
He doesnât really remember how it happens. One moment he is complaining about Jimâs lack of attention and Jim is bitching about how stupid it is to have two hearts when you only use one and the next moment they are incredibly close and heâs kind of ⌠touching Jim.
âItâs not two hearts,â McCoy repeats, sounding exasperated and he impulsively puts his hand on Jimâs chest for emphasis. âItâs not working independently, itâs a system. Try to imagine it like ⌠like pumps. Like a system of pumps.â
He uses technical terms on purpose because he knows Jim is a total geek about engineering and other boring stuff and it always catches his attention.
âA pump.â Jimâs frown deepens as he looks down.
âMultiple pumps that get activated from multiple locations and theyâre all connected. From here and here and âŚâ His hands are moving on their own now, wandering animatedly over Jimâs t-shirt. He gets overexcited like this sometimes when he talks about stuff that really interests him.
âImagine thereâs an impulse âŚâ He puts his palm on Jimâs shoulder and slowly wanders downwards.
â⌠From the big glandâ Jim points at an imaginary gland at his neck and McCoy nods.
âExactly.â His hand stills above Jimâs heart. âAnd when one pump is activated it leads to âŚâ
â⌠It represses the other ⌠no wait.â Jim concentrates, puts his own hand besides McCoyâs. âIt leads to activation of the other so it can inhibit the first ⌠pump. This way the organism doesnât get too aroused by external factors. Itâs a ⌠a self-regulating circuit! Right?â He beams and his eyes are wide and hopeful.
âDamn straight it is,â McCoy answers and he canât help but smile back.
His hands are still on Jimâs chest and itâs only then that he realizes how close they are. Jimâs heart beats under his fingertips, a little bit too fast, but reassuringly strong and steady. Jim is warm and flushed with excitement, his eyes are so damn blue and his smile is surprisingly soft all of a sudden.
âThanks Bones,â he says sincerely.
McCoy feels his breath falter in his chest and it feels like forever before heâs able to remove his hands from the warm skin. âYeah donât mention ⌠,â he coughs awkwardly and clears his throat. âIt was nothing.â
Day 84
Itâs no surprise that Jim aces the damn test. Because heâs a genius and he doesnât even know it. Itâs not even a surprise that he jumps McCoy as soon as he catches glimpses of him.
The only surprise is that McCoy doesnât ever want to let go. And thatâs ⌠thatâs just stupid.
Because Jim, he is like quicksilver. Heâs constantly moving, always on the go, always two steps ahead of everybody and always out of reach. Heâs not something to have. Heâs not somebody you could ever own or call yours.
Jim is just made to let go â and letting go is the one thing McCoy sucks at the most.
âCome on, Bones. Letâs go and celebrate,â Jim suggests with a broad grin and sparkling blue eyes. âFood is on me today.â
He runs again, talking in lightning speed and jumping up and down in front of McCoy like an overeager puppy.
And McCoy smiles and feels as if heâs forever orbiting around Jim like the earth around the sun. He might never arrive anywhere, but the pull of gravity is too strong to escape.
Day 85
âHello Jim,â a sensual voice purrs next to them and they turn around at the same time. Itâs a gorgeous looking brunette that McCoy is sure he knows from somewhere. As does Jim obviously.
âTala,â he greets her. âNice seeing you here. How are you doing?â
âIâm awesome, thanks.â She bats her long eyelashes at him meaningful. âLook, I thought maybe we could âŚâ
âOh. Uhm âŚâ Jim throws an apologetic glance at McCoy. âWould you excuse me for a sec?â
âYeah, sure, of course. Go ahead.â He waves his hand a little awkwardly and watches them leave. Something inside of him feels a little cold all of the sudden.
They had planned to spend the evening together to relax. Just sitting at the bar, drinking some beers, stuff like that. But he shouldâve known better. Itâs not as if Jim makes it a habit of leaving him for his dates. But heâs not exactly a monk either. It doesnât matter. Itâs just the way things are. Jim has random one-night stands and McCoy goes home alone and spends the night with his books.
Maybe thatâs what he should do now.
Just when he has decided maybe he should just leave, Jim slides back on the chair next to him. âFancy another beer?â He asks as if nothing happened.
âUh âŚ?â McCoy stares at him confused.
âSay yes, come on! Next round is on me.â He beams.
âBut ⌠what âŚ?â And McCoy just has to ask: âWhat about Tala?â
Jim shrugs and looks a little embarrassed. âYeah well, she just wanted âto catch up on old timesâ.â
âAnd âŚ?â
âAnd I told her, Iâm here with my best friend and donât have time, maybe later. Or next week.â He sounds pretty unconcerned as if he doesnât mind in the slightest that he just dumped a gorgeous woman, who was obviously more than willing.
For McCoy. Huh.
âSomething wrong?â Jim asks with raised eyebrows.
âNo.â Hastily he shakes his head. âEverything is fine.â And it really is, he thinks smiling.
Day 86
âAnnual sport competition,â McCoy reads aloud when theyâre about to pass the huge poster announcing this event. âOh, come on. Whose stupid idea was that?â
Jim pauses mid-step. âYou think itâs stupid? Why?â
âOh please Jim.â McCoy rolls his eyes. âItâs just people being ridiculously competitive and getting hurt in the process. And for what? For nothing!â
Jim frowns. âBut maybe itâs just for fun? Or seeing how good you are in relation to other people? I just think ⌠it might be cool if your friends watch you from the sideline and root for you, you know?â
âWhatever.â McCoy waves his hand dismissively. âI still think itâs stupid.â
After that Jim is kind of quiet and withdrawn for the rest afternoon and he leaves pretty early.
âIâm just really tired,â he says, but somehow McCoy doesnât really believe him. Something is bugging Jim and he has no idea what it is.
Day 87
Itâs already way past midnight when all of the sudden he can see the literary scales fall from his eyes. He almost shoots straight out of bed. Oh goddamn it!
He has completely forgotten about it, but Jim does this running thing. He runs and heâs pretty good at it, too, as far as McCoy can tell ⌠and knowing Jim who is the most competitive bastard out there, heâs totally going to take part in this competition. Which McCoy has kind of ⌠totally called stupid and ridiculous.
He sighs and falls back into his pillow. Jimâs wistful voice echoes in his head.
âI just think ⌠it might be cool if your friends watch you from the sideline and root for you, you know?â
Day 88
Heâs not going to admit it out loud, but he might have been wrong about this whole thing being stupid and ridiculous. There are people everywhere who look as if they have the time of their lives. Everybodyâs laughing and cheering and the participants are not nearly as competitive and grim as he imagined they would be.
And of course ⌠thereâs Jim.
Watching him run, smiling and panting, does funny things to McCoyâs stomach. Jim looks so content like that, almost happy ⌠only that heâs constantly watching the sidelines with a kind of wistful longing in his eyes. It takes a few moments until he realizes what Jim is searching for. It makes his stomach clench in a way that makes him feel both humbled and incredibly lucky at the same time.
He feels completely ridiculous, but he canât help it, he starts shouting like all the other lunatics around him. He waves his arms and shouts Jimâs name and feels like a complete idiot. Or more precisely he feels like a complete idiot until the moment Jim sees him.
Jimâs whole face starts to glow and his smile is so wide it threatens to break his face.
When he crosses the finish line (as first) he doesnât stop though. He keeps running through the confused looking audience, heads straight for McCoy and totally jumps him. In front of everybody.
âYou came!â He exclaims out of breath. âYou sly dog! You totally came to root for me! I knew, youâd come!â
âOf course I came ⌠Jim, let go! What are you âŚ? Seriously! Stop hugging me!â
Jim is all sweaty and gross and overeager like a puppy and somehow itâs the best thing ever.
Day 89
This evening Jim falls asleep on his shoulder. And somehow McCoy wishes he wouldnât be so incredibly content with this.
Things that are so good just donât last ⌠not ever.
Day 90
âArenât you like excited or something?â
âYes, of course.â McCoy rolls his eyes. He sits at his desk while Jim lays sprawled out lazily on his bed, arms crossed behind his head. And heâs totally not working at his assignment as he should be. Lazy bastard. âI canât positively imagine anything better than to crawl for hours through sand and dirt on a god forsaken planet with more vermin than people. Lucky me.â
âBest thing ever,â Jim agrees dreamily. McCoy shakes his head. Jim is actually looking forward to tomorrow. Heâs a complete lunatic, thatâs what he is. âIt sucks that we canât go together though,â Jim adds, looking decidedly unhappy all of a sudden. âWe should be at the same team. Weâd have so much fun.â
âIâm sure, weâd have,â McCoy murmurs, not really listening and tries to get back to his assignment for Xenobiology. âI really donât know how to handle so much fun on my own.â
For seconds itâs eerily quiet on the other side of his room, but then he hears the sound of soft footfalls. âBones?â
âHm?â
âJust ⌠promise youâll be careful, all right?â
That grabs his attention. Slowly he turns around and frowns at the oddly serious undertone to Jimâs voice. âWhat?â
Jim shrugs, not quite meeting his eyes. âI just have ⌠this weird feeling.â
âA weird feeling?â he echoes, because ⌠really? âItâs just
âLook, Iâm not gonna be there to have your back,â Jim continues as if he hadnât said anything. âAnd I donât like it. So you need to look after yourself.â
âJim ⌠Iâm not the one whoâs an almost constant visitor to the hospital this year, in case youâve forgotten your disturbing track record.â
âJust promise me, Bones.â He sounds so sincere that McCoy feels himself soften almost against his will. Jim has the uncanny ability to melt the sarcasm right out of him.
âYeah, fine. I promise.â
Day 91
His trainings mission lasts about half a day, which he spends mostly crawling through coppice and a desert, fighting of insects and quicksand and weird little alien life-forms, just as expected. When McCoy comes back into his quarters heâs dirty and exhausted and thereâs sand in places that were never ever designed for sand. He takes a long, hot shower and contemplates if he should order pizza. Jim is ridiculously fond of pizza.
Itâs almost 8 pm when he gets THE call. In his head itâs always going to be THE call. It deserves capital letter, even though at this moment itâs just one of many calls during one day.
âDr. Leonard McCoy?â
He sighs. Heâs so not doing the nightshift today. Not again. âWhat is it?â He grumbles, decidedly unhappy.
Someone clears his throat. The voice that follows sounds formal and stiff. âThis is Lieutenant Wojczek speaking, doctor. You are listed as emergency contact of James Tiberius Kirk, is that correct?â
Strangely the second thing in his mind is instant denial closely followed by âWhat the fucking hell are you talking about?â Somehow he manages to say neither. âYes,â he breathes, feeling as if someone had sucker punched the air right out of his lungs. âYes, I am! What happened to him?â
âOn behalf of Starfleet Academy I regret to inform you that survival group 89-delta-X07 is considered missing at this moment.â
âMissing? What do you mean, missing?â Not dead, not dead. Jim is not dead. He wasnât even consciously aware of that thought until he realizes it had been the very first thing in his mind. He feels sick.
âWe ⌠we lost contact three hours ago, doctor.â For the first time the prim voice loses some of its coolness and it starts to sound a little reluctant. âWe ask you not to worry though. This call is just part of the standard procedure. Please be assured âŚâ
âASSURED?â McCoy roars. âAssured, my ass! You tell me right now what the fucking hell happened or Iâll show where you can stuff your damn standard procedure!â
âSir, I beg your pardon, but âŚâ
âWhat. Happened?â he clenches his teeth, trying his best not to scream at the bastard, knowing it wonât do him or Jim any good. âDonât make me repeat myself.â
âIt was an unfortunate and completely unforeseen accident, Sir. The shuttle shut down on the way back âŚâ
âShut DOWN? What that supposed to mean? Your frigging shuttles arenât supposed to shut down!â His heart beats a mile per second. Shuttle accident. Jim has been in a shuttle accident. How many people survive a fucking shuttle accident?!
âIt was an accident. It crashed. Probably an electric storm ⌠lost voice contact and then ⌠search party is already on its way ⌠havenât been able to re-establish contact ⌠no need to worry though ⌠height wasnât âŚâ
The rest of his words disappear under the white noise in his head.
The one thing he can hear is Jimâs voice, as loud and clear as if heâd be standing right next to him.
âI just have ⌠this weird feeling.â
âJust promise me, Bones âŚâ
Day 92
Minutes turn into hours turn into a day turns into a nightmare.
They send search party after search party. They find nothing. Not even a wreckage or debris. Itâs as if the whole team ⌠as if Jim ⌠as if theyâre just gone. Disappeared. Lost on a planet with a less than friendly environment. Stranded with broken equipment and rationed food and water supplies, maybe injured âŚ
âI just have ⌠this weird feeling. â
He needs to stop thinking.
âJust promise me, Bones âŚâ
He needs his brain to stop conjuring up images of Jimâs bloody and mangled, unrecognizable body, blue eyes starring unseeingly up at the merciless sun âŚ
Jim is fine. Jim is always fine ⌠except for when heâs not.
Yeah, that sure is helping.
He hangs around the office waiting for news. He lies on his bed, stars at the ceiling. He ditches courses and doesnât even feel bad about it.
Within hours the news are all over the campus. Nobody pays attention anymore in class, and even the instructors and professors look subdued and nervous.
Nothing like this ever happened before, Lieutenant Wojczek informs him with proper regret. He keeps on calling the bastard every few minutes just to annoy the hell out of him. Itâs the only thing that prevents him from going stir crazy.
That and punching the Lieutenant that tells him cadets arenât allowed on board with a search party. Heâs too involved emotionally, he says.
McCoy is so close to punching him again, but his sight has become inexplicably blurry, so he doesnât.
Day 93
Jim is the only friend he ever had.
Which is a very sad track record if you consider his age and how much heâs been around so far. He knows that. Heâs just not the type for friends. Hell, he doesnât even like people. He likes patients. Thereâs a subtle but important difference that most people just donât get. Patients are subjects. Patients donât expect anything of you except that you try to heal them and thatâs a least something he knows how to do.
And then thereâs Jim.
Who is neither people and even when heâs injured heâs not a patient. Heâs just ⌠Jim. And thereâs nothing âjustâ about it.
They start to inform the families. Just to make sure. Everything is fine. Itâs just standard procedure.
He starts to think he might kill someone if he hears that phrase one more time.
He spends hours starring at the com console, because he doesnât want to miss it when they call. He keeps bugging Wojczek just to do something. He plans to hijack a shuttle.
He takes shift after shit in the hospital in the slight hope that theyâre going to be the first ones to get notified when they come back. He doesnât dare to sleep, because he might miss the moment when they come back.
When. Not if.
He holds on. Because he doesnât know what else to do and he doesnât know what happens when he lets go.
Day 94
The doorbell rings.
He jerks and can literally feel his heart stopping. He hadnât expected this. Not this. Calls might mean anything, but visits ⌠visits are bad. Everybody knows that. They only ever tell you in person when ⌠when itâs bad.
He races to the door and stops right in front of it. Presses his forehead against the door. Breathes. Steals himself. He needs to know. Heâs a doctor for godâs sake, he can take it. He rips the door open and barks: âWhat?â Words catching in his throat. He had expected some unknown face, some official looking guy or girl with serious expression and the âI wish I wasnât here right nowâ-look in their eyes. He thought heâd be prepared, but nothing prepares him for the sight in front of him.
Itâs Jim.
âHey Bones âŚâ He leans heavily at the door frame, pale and dirty, looking as heâs about to keel over any minute now. Heâs a ghost, a hallucination, he has to be. His mind is playing tricks on him, way too little sleep and too much stress and ⌠âMissed me?â Thereâs so much dirt and grime on his face that McCoy almost doesnât see the soft, relieved smile playing around his lips.
Heâs real and heâs a mess, bloody and bruised, but alive and breathing. And heâs the best thing McCoy has ever seen.
âBones?â Jim sounds a little insecure now and he realizes he hasnât even dared to breathe. âSay something?â
He doesnât, he canât. But then Jim kind of forces him to act when his knees decide to buckle.
âJim⌠,â he breathes and jumps forward, catching him around the waist. He feels thin and fragile in his arms, which is absurd, because Jim is the most not-fragile thing he ever came across.
âSorry, Iâm âŚâ he stops and coughs. Itâs a rattling sound that tears at McCoyâs heart.
âJim,â he repeats stupidly, because it really is the only thing on his mind.
He hugs Jim and buries his face into his neck, feels like suffocating and breathing all at the same time. Some weird bittersweet feeling is unfurling in his stomach, sharp and aching like shards of glass. And itâs stupid, itâs girly, because suddenly he feels as if deep down he had always, always known that Jim would be all right.
Only he hasnât. For three days he hasnât.
âSorry,â Jim murmurs again.
âJim, god âŚâ Breathing never felt like so much work before. He canât stop running his hands over the dirty and blood-stained uniform and he canât stop touching him. He needs to feel something solid, something real. He swallows and forces himself to calm down. âWhat happened? And what the hell are you sorry for?â
âSorry, Iâm late. Didnât mean âŚâ Jim lets his head rest on his shoulder. âDidnât mean to make you wait. Bet you ordered pizza and it got cold. Thought of it all the time. Pizza. And you.â The last few words are almost inaudible and all jumbled together. He sounds exhausted and almost delirious and thatâs the moment when all of McCoyâs doctor-instincts go into overdrive.
âDamnit, Jim!â He barks. âWhat are you doing here? Why arenât you in a hospital?â Heâs so close to shaking him (irresponsible, stupid, careless brat!) and only his professional ethics prevent him from doing so. Anxiously he steps back, tries to gauge Jimâs condition. Concussion, he thinks, seeing the way Jimâs eyes donât quite focus. Dehydrated. Exhausted.
âWhy didnât those brainless dumb bastards take you to the hospital?â He demands, feeling angrier with the second now. Anger has always been the easiest emotion. Easier than all the other things he feels which he canât even name and which threatens to drown him if he stops just for one second to think about them. âIâm going to kill those stupid, incompetent, lazy fuckers! You need to be under medical observation. Damnit, Jim âŚ!â
âDidnât want to.â Jim shakes his head and even this small movement seems to make him feel dizzy. His hand shoots out and he grabs the doorframe to steady himself. âDonât need a hospital.â
âDamn straight you do, your irresponsible little âŚbrat! We need to check you for a concussion and inner bleedings and the way youâre holding yourself, probably for broken ribs, too,â McCoy lists, hovering at Jimâs side because the kid looks as if heâs about to keel over any second now. âAnd God knows what kind of space germs and viruses you brought along! Iâll better give you another tetanus shot and âŚâ
The smile catches him completely off-guard. Jim is so ⌠pale and bruised and dirty and heâs obviously injured, but right now, smiling like this, he looks almost happy. âDonât need a hospitalâ, he slurs, sounding loopy and completely wiped out. âBecause Iâve got you.â
And suddenly everything looks slightly blurry and McCoy forces himself to blink and swallow. Because damnit, heâs a doctor, not a crybaby.
âYeah, you got meâ, he says softly. Not waiting for an answer he reaches for Jimâs arm and gently steer him toward the bed.
Because Jim is right. He doesnât need them. Those stupid military doctors donât know shit about Jim and all the things he doesnât like and the things he canât handle, like the way he freaks when people touch him without forewarning and explaining what theyâre going to do now.
But he does. Thatâs why heâs going to take care of him.
And then heâs going to kill him for scaring him like that.
Day 95
Jim is sleeping on McCoyâs couch, even though McCoy had insisted he should take McCoyâs bed with all the bruised skin and cracked bones heâs suffered from that cursed mission, for which McCoy still wants to kick every ass at Starfleet Command.
McCoy is angry, which is why he canât get his brain to shut up and he lies awake, listening to Jimâs deep breathing and he never thought that he would find this particular sound as reassuring as he does. His eyes finally slide close and he can feel his thoughts slipping, when he hears it. Itâs only a faint sound, he nearly canât make out the word, but then Jim repeats it and its ‘Maja‘ and McCoyâs stomach clenches. Thatâs the poor girl that died on the mission and for whose death Jim blames himself. McCoy knows thatâs utter nonsense, but Jim always takes way too much responsibility on himself as if it isnât his own well-being or security he should be worried about.
McCoyâs eyes are still closed when he hears the rustling of the blanket. He waits for the sound of footsteps, but it never comes. Curious he opens his eyes a bit and sees Jim, knees drawn up to his chest, elbows draped over them, looking utterly forlorn in the pale moonlight shining through the window.
McCoy canât stand that look, but providing outright comfort never works too well with Jim, so he decides on a different course of action. He jolts in an upright position and pants a little, eyes rapidly blinking. In an instant Jim is on his feet and by his side.
âBones? Everything okay?â
McCoy shudders. âNightmare. Purple aliens and tentacles and ⌠gaaah ⌠â
Jim puts a hand on his shoulder. âItâs okay. Itâs not real. Just a nightmare.â
âYeah ⌠still donât think I can go back to sleep now.â McCoy looks at Jim and tries to ignore the lines of pain and stress engraved in his face. âWanna bake muffins with me?â
âMu ⌠muffins? Now?â
âIt usually helps.â He scrambles free of his blanket and sets on for the killing blow. âPlease?â
Jim still looks dumbfounded, but also a little bit relieved at not being the only one awake anymore; try as he might hide it. âOkay, sure ⌠if it helps.â
McCoy gets out of bed, slaps Jim on the shoulder and smiles the whole nine yards. âThanks.â
Day 96
They sit in their favorite bar, half hidden in the shadows. Itâs not what McCoy had in mind when Jim had said he wanted a change of scenery. McCoy had thought theyâd go to the beach and watch the sunset or something similar sappy, but Jim had wanted to come here. And right now McCoy is inclined to do anything Jim wants him to do, just so he can keep close by and make sure that Jimâs still alive and breathing. Which doesnât mean he lets Jim drink any alcohol. Heâs a doctor, not a maniac.
So, they sit here, not really talking, until McCoy just canât keep his thoughts to himself any longer. âWhy me?â
At first he doesnât think Jim is going to answer him. It wouldnât be the first time he chooses to ignore one of McCoyâs inquiries.
Jim takes a long sip from his beer-without-alcohol and finally answers with an authority as if itâs the most obvious thing in the world. âBecause you said youâre in for the big stuff as well.â
Day 97
âYouâre in for the big stuff as well.â
That sentence stays with McCoy the whole day and it makes his stomach queasy and his hands nervous. After he messes up his dissection in his Autopsy class for the third time, his teacher takes him to the side.
âWhatâs up with you, McCoy?â Twinings asks. âNormally you need only five seconds for this and now your hands are shaking as if itâs your first date.â
âIâm âŚ, âMcCoy starts, but thereâs nothing to say, is there? Because he canât tell Twinings that he feels like the biggest hypocrite in the world right now. That Jim trusts him and put him as his goddamn emergency contact, while he went around his back and abused his medical privileges to spy on him.
âGo and do whatever you have to do. Youâre no use for me if you screw up and I canât present you any longer as the fine example the rest of the class has to aspire after.â Twinings says these words without any heat, he just seems concerned. McCoy nods and leaves the class in search for Jim.
He finds him as heâs coming out of Interspecies Protocol with a bulk of other students. Apparently theyâre in the middle of a heated discussion if it causes an intergalactic incident would a starship captain refuse a Risan mai-tai while on duty down on Risa. Of course Jim is arguing for drinking as many mai-tais as heâs offered.
Jim wants to start in yet another argument for his side when he spots McCoy. âHey, Bones!â He exclaims and with a wave of his hand leaves the other students behind to walk to McCoy. âWhat are you doing here? Donât you have your Autopsy class right now?â
âI need to talk to you.â
Jim actually takes a step back at his words. âUh ⌠nothing good ever came out of a talk that started with these words.â He tilts his head. âYouâre not going to break up with me, are you?â
McCoy canât help but laugh at his words, yet he sobers up really quickly when he thinks that it is Jim who is likely to break up whatever they have after this conversation.
âI ⌠damn it,â he runs a hand through his hair.
âBones? Youâre scaring me here, man.â
âAfter the kitchen went up in flames I used my medical privileges to look at your personal file.â
âYou ⌠what?â Jim stares at him and itâs not a nice stare.
âI only read about the Kelvin and your aptitude test and that Pike is your advisor. Nothing else, I swear. Iâm sorry,â McCoy says in a rush.
âYou ⌠â Jim blinks and takes yet another step back.
âJim â â
âNo ⌠I ⌠just ⌠see you, Bones.â Jim turns on his heel and all but runs down the corridor, away from McCoy who leans against the wall and feels like the worst person on earth.
Day 98
Jim doesnât show up that day. McCoy is tempted to call him, to make sure heâs okay and probably apologize again, but he doesnât do any of these.
Jim had called him Bones and thatâs as good as any promise that Jim will be back.
Day 99
âWhy did you read it?â Thatâs the first question out of Jimâs mouth when he enters McCoyâs dorm room in the evening.
âI just ⌠I wanted to understand, you know?â He looks up to Jim from where heâs sitting at the couch. Jim leans against the doorframe, a puzzled look on his face. âThere I was, a grumpy old doctor and you took to me like Iâm the only shovel in the sandbox. And then you were so worried about me being angry at you after the fire, as if Iâd care about things when you could have been hurt.â He runs a hand over his face, willing Jim to understand what heâs saying here. âI never wanted to betray your trust, I ⌠damn it, Jim. I care about you, okay? I just wanted to know if there was anything I could help with.â McCoy feels exhausted after this and for the longest time Jim just stands there, as if he lost his ability to speak. Then he sits down next to McCoy, their knees just about touching.
âYou do, Bones, you do,â Jim says quietly, sinking back into the couch and it feels like McCoy can breathe for the first time in two days.
Day 100
McCoy is not nervous. Heâs a doctor, not some overprotective mother hen. Which is exactly why he isnât looking at his watch every ten seconds and doesnât pace the space of his room ⌠apart from the fact that he is. Damn it. He groans and rubs his hands over his face and ultimately succumbs to his fate.
âComputer, locate Cadet Kirk.â
âCadet Kirk is currently in the Cochrane-Library.â
âYou gotta be kidding me. At this time in the Library? My Ass.â
âCouldnât process the request, please repeat â â
âShut up.â
For a moment, McCoy doesnât know what to do. They hadnât talked about today, hadnât agreed on any form of conduct. He had just assumed Jim would swing by, McCoy would congratulate him, they would get sufficiently plastered somewhere in a bar and wake up sometime tomorrow with a hangover from hell. Guess he was wrong, but he just canât leave Jim alone. Not today. Maybe not ever.
He finds Jim in a remote corner of the library, after nearly stumbling over him in the dimly lit room. Of course Jim wouldnât sit on a chair like every normal person, but prefer the carpet as his resting place. Yet McCoy doesnât mutter angry words, Jim looks way too unhappy for his birthday to do that.
Jim acknowledges his presence with a nod, but they donât talk. Sometimes, they donât need to, they just click. And so McCoy sits down next to him, leaning his back against the shelf and takes in all the datapads and books and pictures surrounding them both on the ground. Theyâre all about the Kelvin.
âEvery year at this time I go through everything I can find on the ship,â Jim doesnât look at him when he speaks in a low voice and McCoy knows that by the ship he actually means his dad. He swallows and doesnât know what to say, how to make it better, if thatâs even possible. âThat,â Jim points to a datapad lying innocently between them and takes it into his hands, âis the recording of the last communication from,â his voice crumbles for a second, âfrom my dad.â McCoy feels sucker punched.
âYou can hear me wail and they decide on my name and âŚ,â Jim voice gets lost again in the room full of shadows and McCoy thinks heâs a hypocrite for wanting Jim to stop telling him these things. It hurts to hear his best friend sounding so broken, so raw, and being unable to help. âHe tells my mom he loves her â I wonder ⌠I wonder if he wouldâve loved me, too.â
McCoy closes his eyes for a second and trying his best not to break as well in front of all this anguish. Jim is clenching the datapad so hard his knuckles have gone white. McCoy leans over and gently retrieves it from his fingers before laying it down on the ground again. Jim looks at him, his blue eyes standing out even in the half-light of the deserted room and McCoy says the first thing that comes to his mind.
âI brought jello.â
Jim blinks at him and at the same moment that McCoy is trying to find the fastest way to vanish from the face of earth, Jim begins to smile.
âThe red one?â
âOf course.â McCoy reaches behind him and pushes the jello and a spoon over the carpet to Jim, who picks it up and stares incredulously at McCoy.
âYou smuggled it past the librarian? Iâm impressed.â
McCoy wants to say that heâd do a lot more than just smuggling food into a library for Jim, but here is neither the time nor the place for such a speech. Instead he spends a few minutes watching Jim happily devouring his jello, before he gathers the courage to speak again. âFrom what I heard about your dad I bet he would have loved you more than anything else and heâd be damn proud, too.â
Jim doesnât say anything, but he leans against McCoyâs shoulder and silently eats the rest of his jello. McCoy doesnât know if what he had said holds any weight with Jim, if the jello was the right gesture, but for the moment Jimâs warmth rests against McCoyâs body and thatâs enough.
Everything else they will see.