Switch 38/50
Nov. 18th, 2009 09:35 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ceres_liberaTitle: "Switch" (38/50)
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ceres_libera
Rating: R to NC-17
Summary: The life and times of Leonard H. McCoy MD/PhD … If Leonard McCoy's life could get any fucking weirder, it would be … Jesus, he didn't even want to think what that could possibly mean, because it's already been too fucking weird to make any kind of rational sense.
Canon: Based in the ST:XI universe, but strongly influenced by all canon ST-verses.
Characters: McCoy/Kirk, with eventual appearances by all other ST:XI characters.
Notes: Happy Trekmas, everyone! As weobsessively rewatch celebrate the DVD release, here's another fill-in-the-blanks piece of the movieverse for you to enjoy, Switch-style.
Edited on 11/19/09 to reflect helpful comments/observations made bymijan and nikki4noo. Thank you both!
+
Leo was pretty sure that it had been hours since he'd raised his eyes from the surgical field other than to roll his neck or take an instant to consider what needed to be done to Pike's much-maligned spine. The damage from the slug was as bad as he feared it might be, although Pike was one tough bastard -- of that there was no doubt.
Once he'd gotten him open, Leo was amazed that Pike had been able to be upright for the brief time that Jim had held him propped up. Getting the slug out had been an adventure that he hoped wouldn't soon be replicated. Despite the fact that he was a man who had waxed admiringly about the complexities of adaptive evolutionary stratagems and their elegance, he was usually referring to metaphorical bugs of some sort or another, not actual critters. Seeing that insect burrowing its way toward the base of Pike's brain had triggered a repulsive reflex that was nearly primal, although he'd managed to tamp it down. He and Chapel had first paralyzed the slug, then eased it off of Pike's spinal tissue, trying to minimize further damage to Pike’s battered central nervous system while removing it.
Leo'd spent most of the hours he'd been operating re-grafting the nearly completely severed nerves, until he was confident that they'd repaired what could be repaired. The downstream damage to Pike's spine, however, was particularly worrisome. The excreta that the slug had discharged as it digested Pike's nerve tissue had been caustic, decimating centimeter after centimeter of the myelin sheathing that provided the conductivity for nerve impulses from Pike's brain to his extremities. This was a source of uncertainty in regard to his future mobility, at least for the short term. As frustrating as it was for a healer like Leo, there was only so much acceleration of the healing process for certain kinds of tissue that the regenerators could accomplish. Unfortunately, the two that still required the most long-term regenerative techniques were both central to the conductivity of the nervous system. If Pike were lucky, the regenerators would be able to regrow both the myelin and the deep fascia in their entirety, although it was likely that he might suffer from a kind of diffuse neuropathy for the rest of his life. If he were unlucky, the pins and needles sensations that might have plagued him otherwise would go largely unfelt, along with much of his body from the chest on down. Leo wasn't prone to hubris about his skills as a surgeon, but he did believe in luck. He was lucky that Jim had found Pike and got him to Leo exactly when he did, and he was lucky that he hadn't been operating on Pike when whatever the hell had happened to the Enterprise had taken place. He only hoped that his luck –- or was it Jim's? –- would shelter Pike from a worse fate, but for that, only time would tell. As it stood right now, however, Pike would be unable to assume command of the Enterprise in a meaningful way. Hell, he wouldn't be able to sit up for a good couple of weeks, and he'd be spending hours each day in regenerating chambers once they were back on Earth, whenever that might be. Here on Enterprise, they'd have to make do with what regenerators they had.
Leo stepped back from the operating bed and shook his cramped muscles out before he focused on closing Pike up, being careful not to step through the field that hugged their portion of the operating room. On the other side of the table, Chapel stretched as well, her scrubs similarly blood-spattered.
"Closing?" she asked him.
"Yeah," Leo said, nodding and then added with a sigh. "I think we've done what we can."
"Don't sell yourself short," Chapel admonished him. "That was some damned fine work, McCoy."
He smiled across the bed at her. "You're no slouch yourself there, Chapel."
Her answering smile was wry, but she nodded with her chin to the bed behind him and Leo looked up at the vidscreen above him. "Yeah," he said. "I'm going there next."
Even in its second best Sickbay, the Enterprise had been designed to deal with the kind of disaster they were in the midst of. Both M'Benga and another surgeon named Fleury had been operating on their own patients, surgeries that Leo'd been able to monitor via the screens set up for such an eventuality. Fleury had scrubbed out and was dealing with her patients in Recovery while attending to others in the main bay, but M'Benga was on his fourth patient in a row, a recent emergency arrival. Unless Leo had missed his guess, she'd come from Engineering where some sort of disaster had resulted in her arm nearly being severed.
"I wonder what the fuck has been going on out there," he said, focusing on sealing Pike's spine while Chapel handed him instruments and made sure the field was clear.
She shook her head. "Your guess is as good as mine," she said. "But we're still here."
He nodded, answering with a murmured. "Can you take it from here?"
Chapel looked up at him sharply. "You don't want to call for Fleury?"
He looked her in the eye. "It's not necessary, is it?"
"No," she answered levelly.
"M'Benga needs me more," he said succinctly, and finished closing the derma before he handed it off to her. When Chapel nodded, he stepped back out of the containment field and stretched up and out, running through some postures that Gram, bless her heart, was responsible for ingraining into his very being. He rolled his neck and shoulders and groaned, knowing that he couldn't take too long for this respite when like a déjà vu, he realized that Jim was watching him from the observation space that was half a deck above the operating theatre. Starfleet liked its observation spaces, whether real or virtual, or on the ground and in the ether. Jim was leaning against the clear aluminum, the weight of his body braced on his forearm. He was hunched over in that way he had when he was sheltering hurts and fighting exhaustion. He was bruised everywhere that Leo could see above the dark line of his turtleneck -- his face and his throat in particular. Leo felt his own throat close in sympathy and knew that his expression reflected the concern he felt. He had no doubt that Jim wouldn’t consent to see any of the other docs aside from him, and knew that Jim had pushed himself past the point of endurance for the sake of their young and inexperienced crew. It wouldn’t do to have both of their Captains in beds in Sickbay, but from the look of Jim, that was exactly where he should be. Leo might not be able to do anything about that right at the moment, but there was no reason for Jim to be unnecessarily worrying about Pike. He pointed at Pike, and mouthed "he's OK" to Jim in deference to the cameras that were recording, but the haunted, exhausted expression on Jim's face did not ease as he solemnly stared at Leo, although his mouth twisted into something that resembled a smile.
Jim's attention was drawn away from Leo by his comm, and he turned away to answer it while Leo watched his worrisome behavior, trying to figure out what was wrong. He stripped off the scrub shirt and wiped the sweat and blood from his chest and his arms, noting that Jim's eyes had returned to him as he did so. He stepped into the sterilizing area, untying the tie on his scrub pants as the privacy shield began to rise, making sure that he got Jim's dad's ring off of it and back on his finger before the scrubs went to the sanitizing laundry. He just caught a glimpse of the faint smile that lit Jim's face, despite his haunted eyes, before the shield came up and obscured him from his vision.
When the privacy shield dropped again, Jim was gone.
+
It was almost a relief to be confronted with burns and cuts when Leo was finally out of surgery, not to mention having the world around him returned to its normal scale without the distortion of the magnifiers that made the kind of microsurgery that he’d been doing possible. Still, he didn’t think that he’d be hungry for anything that resembled spaghetti for a while, not to mention crawdads or any other kind of bug-like crustacean. His stomach growled at the thought of food, and he realized that it’d been hours since he’d last eaten, and that had been a tube of the nourishment paste used to sustain folks like him in crisis situations. He wondered how long it had been since his staff ate or slept, not to mention the rest of the crew. He looked at the chrono and then blinked and looked again, unable to believe that it had been just shy of 24 hours ago that he’d come aboard the Enterprise.
Jesus. He took the PADDs that needed reviewing into his office. 24 hours and three sets of scrubs – he couldn’t see putting back on his somewhat grimy uniform after all of the anti-microbial treatments he’d been through, and he had no idea if the laundry operations aboard were actually functioning. After all, they were only supposed to be going on a short hop. He sorted through the PADDs grimly. Mortality reviews, death certificates and autopsy requests predominated although he knew that he should be grateful that there were little more than two dozen, considering the day that they'd all lived through. Still. He needed real food and a damned strong drink, neither of which he was likely to get. He'd settle for information about what the hell was going on, but he wanted it from the horse's mouth, bruised and broken looking as it currently was, preferably while he was treating him.
“McCoy to Bridge,” he said, pressing the panel on his desk.
“Sulu here,” the helmsman said, and unless Leo missed his guess, the kid hadn’t been to sleep yet.
“Where’s the Captain, Lieutenant?” Leo asked. He knew better than to hope that Jim was off-shift or resting somewhere.
“He’s down in Engineering,” Sulu said wearily.
“Spock?” Leo asked, not wanting to talk to the bastard, but willing to follow the chain of command, at least for Jim’s sake.
“With the Captain,” Sulu answered. Leo sighed, but Sulu kept speaking. “There’s a lot of damage to the ship, Doc,” he said, then paused. “How’s Captain Pike?” His voice had dropped, like he was trying to keep their communication private, but Leo could hear the sound of activity on the bridge break off, as if everyone up there was listening.
“He’s doing just fine,” Leo said easily, not prevaricating in the least. He could see Pike through the clear walls of his office, with a regen wrapped around his upper spine and neck as he lay on his stomach, fast asleep. “He came through surgery like a champ.”
“That’s great,” Sulu said warmly. “Really … that’s great.”
Leo listened to his repetition with narrowed eyes. “How long you been on-shift, Sulu?”
“Um … since we came aboard?” Sulu answered him. It was clear that he had no idea how long ago that had been.
Leo sighed. “Is Uhura still up there?”
“Yes, Doctor,” she answered him, clearly monitoring the channel.
“Goddamnit.” He’d taken his finger off the comm, to cut off their hearing. “Chekhov, too?”
“We’re all here,” Sulu said. “What do you need?”
“You’ve been on duty for 24 hours,” Leo said.
“So have you, Dr. McCoy,” Uhura said tiredly.
"I’m trained for this kind of thing,” Leo answered, knowing full well that he was nearing his endurance limit by his rising level of ire.
Uhura sighed. “There’s just been too much going on,” she said, and Sulu murmured in agreement.
Leo broke the connection after a cursory sign-off, then got up from his chair and called for Chapel.
“You bellowed,” Chapel said in a wry tone. Like Leo, she was still wearing her scrubs, although her hair was now arranged in a braid that fell to the middle of her back.
“I did,” Leo answered, “Sorry. We need to start rotating folks off-shift,” he said reasonably.
“Good plan,” she said. “What’s the ETA on when we get back to Earth?”
“Goddamnit,” he said. “I have no fucking idea. I’ll get you an answer ASAP, but assume that it’s going to be a couple of days.”
Chapel shook her head. “I think we’ll be damned lucky if it’s that short.”
He squinted at her. “Speak,” he said.
Chapel put a hand on her hip at his order, and he made a hand-waving motion that could be interpreted as an apology. She sniffed, but spoke. “Rumor has it that we were thrown halfway across the quadrant by the explosion of the Narada.”
Leo gaped at her.
“Also, that we’ve got no warp capacity.”
“Fuck me,” he said, already on his way out of the office to find Jim.
“No thanks,” Chapel said cheerfully as he simultaneously glared at her and tried not to laugh.
On second thought, he returned and took one of the tricorders and a field kit.
“McCoy!”
He turned around again and made an impatient “What?” gesture.
“You will let me know what you find out, won’t you?” It was clear that this was not a request.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said.
She nodded, then turned her attention to Chris Pike, still fast asleep on the biobed.
+
Leo strode out into the hallway and into quiet chaos. Quiet because everywhere he went, crewmen were working on something -– sparking conduits, panels open to expose the guts of the ship, legs sticking out of Jefferies Tubes –- they were grim-faced and focused on their work. And every one of them, from the rawest Cadet to the oldest hand, looked fucking exhausted.
“Goddamnit,” he said aloud, drawing the attention of a few crew members.
“Doc,” one of them said, “How’s Captain Pike?”
“He’s doing great,” Leo said with assurance, but then noted the way the man was holding himself. “Ensign …?”
“Lima, sir,” came the automatic answer, which was followed by a painful looking attempt at a salute.
“Ensign Lima,” Leo said sternly, running the scanner over him. “Don’t make me come back here with corpsmen who’ll sedate your ass and bring you back to Sickbay. You’ve got two fractured ribs. You finish what you’re doing and get down there. I’ll tell Nurse Chapel to expect you in no more than 30 minutes. You do not,” he said menacingly, “want to make a liar out of me.”
The crewwoman next to him was smirking.
“Don’t smirk so hard there, Ensign …”
“Yao,” the woman answered confidently.
“That burn on your hand needs first aid, too,” Leo said in a no-nonsense tone, opening his kit and cleaning the area gently before he dressed it. “You will report to Sickbay at the end of your shift, correct?”
“Yes, sir,” she said.
“All right then,” Leo said, moving on. All in all, it took him the better part of an hour to make it down to where he needed to turn off to Engineering, and he'd commed Chapel twice to tell her to prepare for walking wounded.
"Goddammit!" he said to no one in particular after he signed off for the second time, marveling inwardly that he'd managed to get himself on a boat full of injury-denying idiots like Jim Kirk. He rounded the corner to where the corridor to Engineering should have been, and only then, when he saw the sealed off route and the evidence of the fire beyond it, did he realize how much damage the ship had taken. "Christ on a hoverbike!" he swore, turning toward the lower half of the man wriggling out of the nearby Jefferies Tube. "Jesus Christ, Cupcake!" he said, hurrying over to the huge young man in the torn red shirt with the massive contusion on his head.
"McCoy," the kid said with a thin smile.
"You look like shit," Leo said gruffly. "Why haven't you gotten your ass to Sickbay?"
"No concussion," Hanlon said. "I scanned myself."
Leo's face was set in a scowl. "Didn't I warn you about you and medical judgment once before?" he growled, scanning him.
"I did my first responder training," Hanlon said tiredly. "I can read a tricorder. Besides, at the time, putting out the fire seemed like a bigger priority."
"And your lungs show the evidence of that," Leo said, scanning the kid. "You need to be treated, just like the other idiots I've encountered on my way here."
Hanlon nodded, "I'll go in a minute," he said, then hastened to add, "do you know how Kaplan is?"
"No idea, kid," Leo said and thought for a minute. "But I don't recall the name on my fatalities list."
Hanlon blew out a breath. "She was pretty badly burned," he said.
"Check with Chapel when you get to Sickbay," Leo ordered, "and before you go, tell me how the fuck do I get to Engineering?"
"OK," Hanlon said, pointing to the tube he'd just come out. "Go in straight for thirty clicks and then take the second left, and …" he was watching Leo's face. "Oh, fuck it, it's easier to just show you, c'mon."
Leo slung the medkit around his body and frowned, but waved a hand. "Fine," he said gruffly. "But you show me and then you turn right back around."
"Yessir," Hanlon said with a hint of his usual brash sarcasm, crawling back into the tube. "You come to get the Captain?"
Leo could feel his eyebrow raising even as he followed Hanlon. "By Captain, you mean Jim Kirk?"
"I do," Hanlon said, without a hint of a flinch in his voice as he swiftly turned a corner.
"Never thought I'd see the day …" Leo said.
"Me neither," Hanlon's voice floated back. "But I'm not going to deny that he did a hell of a thing today."
Leo couldn't think of anything to say to that, so he said nothing, focusing on following Hanlon in the half-light of the Tubes. The environmental controls were set very low, and the air was close and somewhat fetid, and warmer the closer they got to Engineering.
Hanlon punched open a hatch and clambered out, holding the door for Leo. "Doesn't mean I want to marry him, or anything."
"Duly noted," Leo said drily, dusting himself off. He looked at Hanlon for a long moment, then held out his hand. "Thank you, Ensign," he said.
Hanlon hesitated for an instant before he took the proffered hand. "Doctor," he said, shaking it.
"Now get your ass to Sickbay," Leo said firmly.
Hanlon's mouth quirked into a smile. "He's over there," he said, pointing with his head. "Looks like a good wind would knock him over, but you'll probably still have to cold-cock him to get him to lay down." He started to turn toward the tube, but then said casually. "I could take care of that for you."
Leo smiled. "For auld lang syne, or something?"
"I'm pretty sure I still owe him one," Hanlon said.
Leo pointed at the tube with his thumb, and started moving to where Cupcake had indicated.
"Comm me if you want to take me up on it!" Cupcake yelled.
Leo looked over his shoulder to see that Hanlon had crawled back into the tube before he continued into the big bay. The whir of machinery was loud in the bay, but he could hear voices above the din, as crewmen yelled to each other and swore viciously at uncooperative machinery. The smell of soldered metals and synthetics was strong, and here and there, he could see the arc of sparks as things were welded or repaired. Jim, Spock and their erstwhile Chief Engineer stood at the center of the chaos obviously engrossed in a conversation. As he got closer, he could hear the excited voice of the Scotsman over the din as he postulated an idea that Spock immediately shot down.
“The chances of that unorthodox solution working are precisely 1,235:1,” Spock said in his cool affectless tone.
“What are the chances of you coming up with a better idea?” the Scotsman shot back and Leo found himself grinning as Spock raised an eyebrow.
Jim stood between them, looking at the oversized lighted panel in front of them with a considering expression on his face. “I don’t know, Spock,” Jim said thoughtfully. “It’s unorthodox, but I think there’s a germ of a good idea in there.”
Jim went to cross his arms over his chest, and then thought better of it, only the slightest moue of pain crossing his face, but Leo noticed that Spock was aware of his discomfort as Jim planted his hands on his hips and shifted his stance, looking for a comfortable position. The bruises on his face and neck were even more prominent than they had been when Leo had last seen him, and the line of Jim’s jaw was particularly stark against the black of his shirt as he looked down.
“Hail, hail,” Leo said sardonically.
“Bones,” Jim said with surprise. “Is Captain Pike OK?”
“He’s just fine, Captain Kirk,” Leo drawled, loud enough so that the folks around them who were eavesdropping could hear. “He should be awake enough to take report from you in a few hours.”
“That’s great!” Jim said enthusiastically.
Scott, meanwhile, had noticed their lurking listeners. “Back to work you lot!” he yelled. “As if there’s nought to do here with the dear lady in such a state!”
Leo raised an eyebrow at Scott’s description of the Enterprise, only catching himself when he saw that Spock was doing the same thing.
Jim’s tired eyes had begun to twinkle with mirth, and although he was thrilled to see the light return to Jim's eyes, if Jim made a smartass remark comparing him to Spock, he might have to hypo his ass, Captain or not. Or maybe he'd seriously consider taking Cupcake up on his offer. He wouldn't want to damage his hands, after all.
“Speaking of which,” Leo said, cutting off any further conversation. “Someone want to tell me what the fuck is going on?”
Spock’s other eyebrow raised at Leo’s language, and Leo would swear that he pursed his mouth ever so slightly. “To what are you referring?”
“I’m referring,” he growled in Spock’s direction, “to the fact that I’ve been in surgery for the better part of a day, and just spent an hour patching up crew members that should have sought treatment long ago, but … they all tell me that they’ve been too busy, putting out literal fires and whatnot. Not to mention that I had to climb here through the bowels of the ship after I saw that corridor."
"We'll have that fixed in a jiff," Scott said earnestly. "'smostly cosmetic, and a wee bit of a pain in the ass for the work around, but you can go out up the top without going through the tubes."
Spock looked like he was going to protest the 'in the jiff' remark, so Leo hastened to speak up. "Well, that'll be better on my knees, so I thank you, but my point is that you've got an exhausted, somewhat traumatized bunch of kids trying to fix up a boat that clearly needs getting to Spacedock. No offense, Mr. Scott," he said, to forestall the Engineer's outburst.
Jim sighed and scrubbed one of his hands across his face before he ran a hand over his head and rubbed his neck. Leo found himself itching to whip out a tricorder at clearly seeing the damage to Jim's knuckles and fingers. "The thing is, Bones," Jim said quietly. "We are nowhere near a Spacedock."
Leo nodded. "How far away are we?"
"At warp, it would be the better part of a day," Spock answered. "But considering that we are currently without warp capacity, and that we are suffering from significant damage that is likely to be adversely affected by higher rates of speed, the nearest Spacedock is five Earth days away."
Leo nodded again. Jim's gloomy expression had told him that the situation was as bad as Christine had feared.
"And that Spacedock," Spock continued, "is inadequate for a ship the size of Enterprise."
"The point, Mr. Spock?" Leo said curtly, reminded of interns who were more interested in impressing their classmates with their breadth of knowledge on a topic, and lost focus on the actual patient needing care.
"Under optimal circumstances, and without a tow from one of the ships currently en route from the Laurentian system, approximately 7.65 Terran days."
"Thank you," Leo said, baring his teeth in a mocking smile. "And why," he said to Jim, "are we not expecting a tow from someone else in the fleet?"
"They're assuming defensive positions at key points along the Neutral Zone," Jim said quietly.
Leo nodded, considering the new information.
"We'll be fine, Bones," Jim said, "they're not likely to come out here."
Leo looked at Jim with a puzzled expression on his face. "I have no doubt that we're doing as well as we possibly can, Captain," he said firmly. "My concerns are about this crew, who've been working flat out for far longer than they should without adequate rest or food."
Jim looked startled at Leo's assertion.
"What are the provision levels like?" Leo demanded of Spock.
"Good," Spock answered. "The ship was stocked with the idea that a stay at Vulcan -" Leo detected only the tiniest pause in Spock's speech before he continued "- might be necessary or that we'd be required to provide disaster relief."
"So the mess is operational?"
"I would assume so," Spock said.
"Let's not assume," Leo growled. "We need to make sure that it's up and functional, and announce shift rotations for meals, and then rest."
"Lieutenant Commander," Spock said smoothly, "surely staff going offshift can take an MRE with them to quarters for the time being."
"It's Doctor," Leo said firmly, "and that is not an acceptable plan. The crew needs to be together, to share the communal act of a meal, to talk and remember and take solace from knowing that they're not alone. With all due respect for your own losses, I doubt that there's a person aboard this ship who didn't lose at least one person that they loved today."
Jim's expression was somber, his eyes fixed on something over Leo's shoulder. "You're right, Bones," he said quietly. "Make a shift schedule," he said to Spock, "I'll take the last meal."
Leo looked over his shoulder while Jim's focus was off him, and noticed Raji up on one of the catwalks above them. Fuck. “I was actually thinking that it would be best if you take the first meal shift, Captain.”
Jim shook his head. “I’ll be present at all the meals,” he said quietly, “but I won’t eat until the last one.”
Leo’s brows drew down in consternation. This was exactly not what he wanted to hear from his banged-up, exhausted friend. He opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off by Spock.
“I’m sure that the crew will appreciate the sign of respect, Captain Kirk,” Spock said smoothly.
“They deserve no less,” Jim said firmly, and Leo sighed, hoping that he could make Jim eat something between now and then, but recognizing that it was likely to be a battle that he was going to lose.
“Tradition?” Leo asked, hoping that there wasn’t any more to it.
“The Captain doesn’t eat or sleep until the crew has,” Jim said simply.
“Traditionally, it is organized by rank, with the lower ranks being served first. In other words, the entire command crew should rightfully go last," Spock said.
From Jim's shrug, Leo knew that he would be the last person to eat or to rest, unless Leo could do something about that. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes or pinch the bridge of his nose, and thought strategically instead. Traditions were all well and good, but most of the crew was not beaten to shit the way the Captain was. The Captain should actually be in Sickbay, and although he did not want to undermine Jim’s command in any way, he could not authorize Jim staying on duty for much longer, lest the ship be left without a Captain yet again.
"With all due respect, Captain," Leo said, making his move. He kept his voice low. "I would suggest that Commander Spock take a break now, attend the last dinner break, and return to the bridge for the remainder of the beta and gamma shifts." Spock looked like he was about to object, so Leo kept talking, throwing out the carrot. "I understand that this is highly unorthodox, but unless I am grossly mistaken, the Commander has no injuries that need attending."
Spock nodded to indicate that this was true.
"But considering the day that you have endured, I'm willing to bet that a period of meditation would be restorative," Spock's expression did not change one iota at Leo's statement. "I'm also assuming that the Bridge crew would eat on the last shift. Is that correct?"
Spock tilted his head to indicate assent.
"I believe that it's important that the Bridge crew spend some time together, in light of the collective experience that they've shared,” Leo paused, and looked from Jim to Spock. “In fact, I think that there are members of that crew that would specifically benefit from Commander Spock's presence."
Both Jim and Spock looked surprised by Leo's assertion, but Spock's surprise had an assessing tone as he stared at Leo.
Yes, you ass, he thought, I am talking about your girlfriend. God help her.
"Also," Leo continued, turning his attention back to Jim, "if you consent to come off shift after the last dinner break and rest, Captain, I'll be able to render some necessary first aid in privacy. You'll be fresh and ready to resume command come Alpha tomorrow."
Leo didn’t need to know Spock very well to know that he had recognized the validity in the plan.
“I concur with Lieut -- Doctor McCoy’s plan, Captain,” Spock said.
"No time in Sickbay," Jim said in a bargaining tone, his voice pitched not to carry.
"Done," Leo said, knowing a deal when one was struck. "Mr. Scott," he asked. "Are you willing to work out a shift schedule for your staff?"
"Oh, aye," he said, "the lads and lassies here will work better with a good supper in them, and as long as I can get a sandwich, it'll all be good, but …" he hesitated, "there has been damage to crew quarters."
Jim nodded, considering.
"If I could make another suggestion," Leo said.
Jim waved a hand tiredly.
"I think that berthing assignments should be sorted out for the comfort of crew members, and a blind eye turned to any fraternization matters," Leo said frankly.
Spock's eyebrow was raising to its hairline. “That is an extremely unorthodox suggestion, Doctor,” he said.
"It has been a hell of a day," Leo said quietly, "and people are going to have to double up anyway. I’m not saying that you make such assignments officially, merely that you recognize that social creatures require companionship, and not just in the dining hall. It's an essential component of mental health."
Jim nodded, but there was a ghost of a smile on his face. "So noted," he said wryly.
Leo raised his own eyebrow in a challenging fashion at Spock, who visibly tamped down further objections, then excused himself back to Sickbay.
"I'll see you in the mess, Captain," he said to Jim, waiting to move until he saw Jim's nod.
+
Leo was relieved to see Jim sitting on the edge of his bed when he came into the bedroom of the cabin that he'd been assigned before he'd been elevated to CMO, even though the sight of Jim sitting, still and forlorn with elbows on knees and head in hands, was breaking his heart.
"When you said that you were going to eat last, I mistakenly took that to mean that you were going to eat in the mess, Jim," Leo said quietly. He'd watched as Jim had moved from table to table, talking to and reassuring crew members, praising them for a job well done and urging them to eat, bringing food to those who needed encouragement, clapping shoulders, talking and listening. Leo knew that Jim had done the same during both of the earlier meal periods, because he'd checked in on the crew himself, in between organizing the shift rotations for medical personnel with Chapel, and ensuring that his own staff was housed and fed before he signed out for the night.
"Not hungry, Bones," Jim said softly, not moving from his despondent position.
Leo sighed and put the clean clothes and toiletry kits that he'd cajoled out of the kid filling in for the CHOP on the shelf outside the bathroom that he shared with a still on-duty M'Benga. "C'mon, Jim," he said to him quietly, running a hand over his hair. "You'll feel better after you clean up." Jim leaned into his caress, pressing his left side up against Leo's thigh.
"So tired, Bones," he said, exhaustedly.
"I know, Jimmy," Leo said, continuing to soothe him the way he'd wanted to for hours. "But you're one big walking bruise, and I hate to tell you, but you smell like the hind end of a donkey."
Jim's chuckle was faint, and a little watery, but there. He turned his face into Leo's hip and sniffed. "You smell like hospital," he observed.
"And clean laundry," Leo said, stepping back and shrugging out of the new blues that he'd gotten from the erstwhile chief, leaving him in just his black undershirt and pants. "I'm not sure that the laundry will be able to salvage that shirt."
"'s'ok," Jim said, "I can't lift my arms to get it off anyway, so I'll just wear it into the shower."
"Hell you will," Leo said, reaching over him for the medkit. He pulled out a scissor and held Jim's head still, making a cut at the back of the shirt and then using the blade to neatly slice it in two.
"Kinky," Jim observed drily, but Leo was too busy wincing at the state of Jim's ribs and his back to make a rejoinder.
"Jesus, Jim," he said, after he carefully pulled the shirt off his arms. "You really are one big bruise." He crouched down in front of him to get at his boots.
"Yeah," Jim said. He looked at Leo briefly, then dropped his head forward onto Leo's shoulder, resting his weight on him as Leo wrestled with his boots and pulled off his socks.
"C'mon Jim," he said, placing a hand on the back of his neck and kissing his jaw. "Help me a little here."
Jim sighed and leaned back slightly to look at him. "You ruined my history-making shirt," he groused, but it seemed mechanical, like he was trying to act normal.
"They can sew it right up the back for the Jim Kirk Exhibit at the UFP Pavilion," Leo said lightly. "Can you stand up for me?"
Jim huffed scornfully but stood, still leaning heavily on Leo. "Oh," he said, looking down as Leo unbuttoned them. "Are you finally getting into my pants?"
Leo smiled and gave Jim's right buttock a squeeze as he pushed his pants off, then thought better of it when the flinch that provoked looked a lot more like discomfort than pleasure. "Sorry," he said, bending to gently lift Jim's feet out of his filthy trousers. He hid the tender smile that seeing Jim's scrawny legs always provoked, even now when they were as beat to hell as the rest of him, and stood up only to have Jim press up against him.
"Don't apologize," Jim ordered in a weary tone from where he'd hidden his face against Leo's neck.
"Can you get in the shower by yourself?" Leo asked.
"In a minute," Jim muttered, still leaning. His hands had come up to cover Leo's hips, but trying to raise his arms higher had only resulted in stifled hitches meant to mask the pain.
"What're you doing?" Leo asked, running a hand through Jim's hair again. His scalp seemed to be the only place that wasn't bruised, except maybe for the soles of his feet.
"Improving my mental health by seeking solace in companionship," Jim said languidly.
Leo chuckled and tugged at the hair at the back of his scalp. When Jim moved his face to protest, he kissed his bruised lips gently, tasting Jim's exhaustion before he sighed against him. "C'mon now, Jimmy," he said gently. "Get in the shower and clean up."
"More solace," Jim requested.
Leo chuckled and kissed him again, trailing kisses over his bruised cheek as Jim shifted and then moaned in pain when he twisted his sore neck trying to reach Leo's mouth. "You'll get some more solace after you brush your teeth," Leo said, stepping back but keeping hold of Jim. "Go on."
Jim grumbled, but shuffled across the room to the bathroom. Now that he was no longer acting the part of the Captain for the crew, he was walking like a man far older than his years, and Leo shadowed him, unsure of how steady he truly was.
"There's a tub," Jim said with awe when the lights came on.
"Which you are far too grimy to get into," Leo said with a smile, switching the room status to occupied, in case M'Benga or perhaps a guest wanted to access the facilities.
"Bones …" Jim protested.
"Shower," Leo answered firmly. "There's water and everything, but I want you to run a sonic, too -- it'll kill anything that's brewing."
Jim pursed his lips as if to argue, but he sighed instead, stepping toward the cubicle as Leo turned to go back into the cabin. When Leo heard the water come on, he tossed Jim's laundry down the chute and moved his boots to the end of the bed, then slipped out the main door, headed to the mess.
When he got back to the room, Jim was back on the bed, seated in the same despondent position that he'd been in before. This time, however, his hair was darkened by the water, his bruises stark against the pallor of his fair skin, the full expanse of which was only hidden from Leo's view by the blue sleep shorts that he'd procured for him.
"Hard for you to solace me when you're on another deck," Jim said casually. He took a breath in and sniffed, raising his head to look at the covered bowls in Leo's hands. "Bones …" he protested.
"It's soup, Jim," Leo said. "You can just drink it right down and get your vitamins." Not to mention that he'd fortified them both with protein powders and calorie extenders that would be tasteless, but nourishing. "The meds I'm going to give you will work better if you've eaten."
"Bones …"
"Please, Jim," Leo said to him quietly, crouching down in front of him. "Just drink it."
Jim's weary blue eyes searched his. "I can't promise to drink both of those," he said.
"You pick which one you want," Leo said. "Plomeek or chicken?" At the word plomeek, something in Jim's expression cracked and became jagged.
"You got me plomeek?" he whispered.
"I made sure it was on the menu tonight," Leo said. "Comfort food."
Jim's laugh was watery. "It's the most boring comfort food ever invented," he said, but he reached for the bowl and Leo uncovered it, putting the chicken soup on the nightstand as he reached for his tricorder.
He was watching Jim as he sipped at the warm broth, seeing the warm flush return to his cheeks as he did so, even though the hands around the bowl were faintly tremoring. Leo worked as swiftly as possible, strapping regenerators to Jim's ribs, his knees, his shoulders, and trying to keep his sighing to a minimum at the damage he was uncovering: strains, fractures, and misalignments everywhere he looked.
"Going to be hard to sleep with all that crap on me," Jim said thickly. "It's like bugs crawling under my skin." He stiffened suddenly. "Pike?" he asked.
"He's doing great," Leo said. "No bugs."
Jim nodded wearily, his head over the cupped bowl and the dregs of the soup that were in it. Leo watched in silent sorrow as a tear dropped into the bowl.
"Jim …" he said, kneeling down in front of him.
"All those people," Jim said softly, staring into the bowl, but Leo knew that he was seeing the empty space where Vulcan had been, all that had been destroyed by a madman's vengeance. Leo wiped the tears from his cheek gently, more unnerved by Jim's silent weeping than he would have been by an outburst.
"I know, Jim," Leo said.
"The KFF, Bones," Jim said in anguish, and his hands gripped the bowl so hard that Leo eased it from his hold and wrapped himself around him.
"Shh …" Leo soothed. He felt the hot wash of tears on his neck, the curl of Jim's fists against his back, and he held on, despite the fact that the regens were cutting into him and being displaced.
"My kids," Jim said brokenly, and Leo felt the shudder that ran through him from head to toe, and pulled Jim in tighter, kissing his temple and his brow, feeling the tears rising in his own chest at Jim's grief.
"I know, Jimmy, I know," he said thickly, wiping at his own eyes, and trying to push away the knowledge that so many people -- so many young people -- that they had known were dead and gone in an eyeblink. He held on until he felt Jim's body become lax, then stood, pulling Jim up with him as he turned down the covers.
"Bones," Jim said, his tone hazy and confused. "Did you sedate me?"
"No," Leo said surely. "You're just totally exhausted." He swung Jim's feet up onto the bed and adjusted all the regens back into their proper positions before he covered him, taking time to set some new ones on his hands and his neck, and then hypoing him with some muscle relaxants.
"I won't even be able to take a piss," Jim complained.
"Do you have to?" Leo asked, surprised, "or are you just grousing?"
Jim smiled, eyes closed. "Grousin'," he said sleepily.
Leo bent forward and kissed him. "Shut up and go to sleep, boy," he ordered.
"Where you goin'?" Jim asked, starting to wake back up.
"Nowhere," Leo said, toeing off his boots, and stripping off his pants and undershirt. He crawled up the other side of the too small bed and slid under the covers on his side, shifting Jim so that he was practically laying atop him, his back resting against Leo's chest. "Lights off," he ordered the computer, and blinked as it complied and the unfamiliar room became pitch dark.
Jim murmured and shifted against him, trying to find a more comfortable position, then settled. He let out one long, whistling sigh that sounded something like his nickname for Leo, and fell blessedly asleep, his battered frame relaxing and becoming a somnolent weight against Leo, holding him down, anchoring him to the bed.
Leo bent his arm up to stroke it through Jim's hair and leaned forward, kissing the join of Jim's neck where it flowed gracefully into his shoulder. "I'm going nowhere without you, kid," he promised Jim. Then he closed his eyes, and let his breathing match Jim's as he tumbled after him into sleep.
+
Switch 39
Author:
ceres_liberaRating: R to NC-17
Summary: The life and times of Leonard H. McCoy MD/PhD … If Leonard McCoy's life could get any fucking weirder, it would be … Jesus, he didn't even want to think what that could possibly mean, because it's already been too fucking weird to make any kind of rational sense.
Canon: Based in the ST:XI universe, but strongly influenced by all canon ST-verses.
Characters: McCoy/Kirk, with eventual appearances by all other ST:XI characters.
Notes: Happy Trekmas, everyone! As we
Edited on 11/19/09 to reflect helpful comments/observations made by
mijan and nikki4noo. Thank you both!+
Leo was pretty sure that it had been hours since he'd raised his eyes from the surgical field other than to roll his neck or take an instant to consider what needed to be done to Pike's much-maligned spine. The damage from the slug was as bad as he feared it might be, although Pike was one tough bastard -- of that there was no doubt.
Once he'd gotten him open, Leo was amazed that Pike had been able to be upright for the brief time that Jim had held him propped up. Getting the slug out had been an adventure that he hoped wouldn't soon be replicated. Despite the fact that he was a man who had waxed admiringly about the complexities of adaptive evolutionary stratagems and their elegance, he was usually referring to metaphorical bugs of some sort or another, not actual critters. Seeing that insect burrowing its way toward the base of Pike's brain had triggered a repulsive reflex that was nearly primal, although he'd managed to tamp it down. He and Chapel had first paralyzed the slug, then eased it off of Pike's spinal tissue, trying to minimize further damage to Pike’s battered central nervous system while removing it.
Leo'd spent most of the hours he'd been operating re-grafting the nearly completely severed nerves, until he was confident that they'd repaired what could be repaired. The downstream damage to Pike's spine, however, was particularly worrisome. The excreta that the slug had discharged as it digested Pike's nerve tissue had been caustic, decimating centimeter after centimeter of the myelin sheathing that provided the conductivity for nerve impulses from Pike's brain to his extremities. This was a source of uncertainty in regard to his future mobility, at least for the short term. As frustrating as it was for a healer like Leo, there was only so much acceleration of the healing process for certain kinds of tissue that the regenerators could accomplish. Unfortunately, the two that still required the most long-term regenerative techniques were both central to the conductivity of the nervous system. If Pike were lucky, the regenerators would be able to regrow both the myelin and the deep fascia in their entirety, although it was likely that he might suffer from a kind of diffuse neuropathy for the rest of his life. If he were unlucky, the pins and needles sensations that might have plagued him otherwise would go largely unfelt, along with much of his body from the chest on down. Leo wasn't prone to hubris about his skills as a surgeon, but he did believe in luck. He was lucky that Jim had found Pike and got him to Leo exactly when he did, and he was lucky that he hadn't been operating on Pike when whatever the hell had happened to the Enterprise had taken place. He only hoped that his luck –- or was it Jim's? –- would shelter Pike from a worse fate, but for that, only time would tell. As it stood right now, however, Pike would be unable to assume command of the Enterprise in a meaningful way. Hell, he wouldn't be able to sit up for a good couple of weeks, and he'd be spending hours each day in regenerating chambers once they were back on Earth, whenever that might be. Here on Enterprise, they'd have to make do with what regenerators they had.
Leo stepped back from the operating bed and shook his cramped muscles out before he focused on closing Pike up, being careful not to step through the field that hugged their portion of the operating room. On the other side of the table, Chapel stretched as well, her scrubs similarly blood-spattered.
"Closing?" she asked him.
"Yeah," Leo said, nodding and then added with a sigh. "I think we've done what we can."
"Don't sell yourself short," Chapel admonished him. "That was some damned fine work, McCoy."
He smiled across the bed at her. "You're no slouch yourself there, Chapel."
Her answering smile was wry, but she nodded with her chin to the bed behind him and Leo looked up at the vidscreen above him. "Yeah," he said. "I'm going there next."
Even in its second best Sickbay, the Enterprise had been designed to deal with the kind of disaster they were in the midst of. Both M'Benga and another surgeon named Fleury had been operating on their own patients, surgeries that Leo'd been able to monitor via the screens set up for such an eventuality. Fleury had scrubbed out and was dealing with her patients in Recovery while attending to others in the main bay, but M'Benga was on his fourth patient in a row, a recent emergency arrival. Unless Leo had missed his guess, she'd come from Engineering where some sort of disaster had resulted in her arm nearly being severed.
"I wonder what the fuck has been going on out there," he said, focusing on sealing Pike's spine while Chapel handed him instruments and made sure the field was clear.
She shook her head. "Your guess is as good as mine," she said. "But we're still here."
He nodded, answering with a murmured. "Can you take it from here?"
Chapel looked up at him sharply. "You don't want to call for Fleury?"
He looked her in the eye. "It's not necessary, is it?"
"No," she answered levelly.
"M'Benga needs me more," he said succinctly, and finished closing the derma before he handed it off to her. When Chapel nodded, he stepped back out of the containment field and stretched up and out, running through some postures that Gram, bless her heart, was responsible for ingraining into his very being. He rolled his neck and shoulders and groaned, knowing that he couldn't take too long for this respite when like a déjà vu, he realized that Jim was watching him from the observation space that was half a deck above the operating theatre. Starfleet liked its observation spaces, whether real or virtual, or on the ground and in the ether. Jim was leaning against the clear aluminum, the weight of his body braced on his forearm. He was hunched over in that way he had when he was sheltering hurts and fighting exhaustion. He was bruised everywhere that Leo could see above the dark line of his turtleneck -- his face and his throat in particular. Leo felt his own throat close in sympathy and knew that his expression reflected the concern he felt. He had no doubt that Jim wouldn’t consent to see any of the other docs aside from him, and knew that Jim had pushed himself past the point of endurance for the sake of their young and inexperienced crew. It wouldn’t do to have both of their Captains in beds in Sickbay, but from the look of Jim, that was exactly where he should be. Leo might not be able to do anything about that right at the moment, but there was no reason for Jim to be unnecessarily worrying about Pike. He pointed at Pike, and mouthed "he's OK" to Jim in deference to the cameras that were recording, but the haunted, exhausted expression on Jim's face did not ease as he solemnly stared at Leo, although his mouth twisted into something that resembled a smile.
Jim's attention was drawn away from Leo by his comm, and he turned away to answer it while Leo watched his worrisome behavior, trying to figure out what was wrong. He stripped off the scrub shirt and wiped the sweat and blood from his chest and his arms, noting that Jim's eyes had returned to him as he did so. He stepped into the sterilizing area, untying the tie on his scrub pants as the privacy shield began to rise, making sure that he got Jim's dad's ring off of it and back on his finger before the scrubs went to the sanitizing laundry. He just caught a glimpse of the faint smile that lit Jim's face, despite his haunted eyes, before the shield came up and obscured him from his vision.
When the privacy shield dropped again, Jim was gone.
+
It was almost a relief to be confronted with burns and cuts when Leo was finally out of surgery, not to mention having the world around him returned to its normal scale without the distortion of the magnifiers that made the kind of microsurgery that he’d been doing possible. Still, he didn’t think that he’d be hungry for anything that resembled spaghetti for a while, not to mention crawdads or any other kind of bug-like crustacean. His stomach growled at the thought of food, and he realized that it’d been hours since he’d last eaten, and that had been a tube of the nourishment paste used to sustain folks like him in crisis situations. He wondered how long it had been since his staff ate or slept, not to mention the rest of the crew. He looked at the chrono and then blinked and looked again, unable to believe that it had been just shy of 24 hours ago that he’d come aboard the Enterprise.
Jesus. He took the PADDs that needed reviewing into his office. 24 hours and three sets of scrubs – he couldn’t see putting back on his somewhat grimy uniform after all of the anti-microbial treatments he’d been through, and he had no idea if the laundry operations aboard were actually functioning. After all, they were only supposed to be going on a short hop. He sorted through the PADDs grimly. Mortality reviews, death certificates and autopsy requests predominated although he knew that he should be grateful that there were little more than two dozen, considering the day that they'd all lived through. Still. He needed real food and a damned strong drink, neither of which he was likely to get. He'd settle for information about what the hell was going on, but he wanted it from the horse's mouth, bruised and broken looking as it currently was, preferably while he was treating him.
“McCoy to Bridge,” he said, pressing the panel on his desk.
“Sulu here,” the helmsman said, and unless Leo missed his guess, the kid hadn’t been to sleep yet.
“Where’s the Captain, Lieutenant?” Leo asked. He knew better than to hope that Jim was off-shift or resting somewhere.
“He’s down in Engineering,” Sulu said wearily.
“Spock?” Leo asked, not wanting to talk to the bastard, but willing to follow the chain of command, at least for Jim’s sake.
“With the Captain,” Sulu answered. Leo sighed, but Sulu kept speaking. “There’s a lot of damage to the ship, Doc,” he said, then paused. “How’s Captain Pike?” His voice had dropped, like he was trying to keep their communication private, but Leo could hear the sound of activity on the bridge break off, as if everyone up there was listening.
“He’s doing just fine,” Leo said easily, not prevaricating in the least. He could see Pike through the clear walls of his office, with a regen wrapped around his upper spine and neck as he lay on his stomach, fast asleep. “He came through surgery like a champ.”
“That’s great,” Sulu said warmly. “Really … that’s great.”
Leo listened to his repetition with narrowed eyes. “How long you been on-shift, Sulu?”
“Um … since we came aboard?” Sulu answered him. It was clear that he had no idea how long ago that had been.
Leo sighed. “Is Uhura still up there?”
“Yes, Doctor,” she answered him, clearly monitoring the channel.
“Goddamnit.” He’d taken his finger off the comm, to cut off their hearing. “Chekhov, too?”
“We’re all here,” Sulu said. “What do you need?”
“You’ve been on duty for 24 hours,” Leo said.
“So have you, Dr. McCoy,” Uhura said tiredly.
"I’m trained for this kind of thing,” Leo answered, knowing full well that he was nearing his endurance limit by his rising level of ire.
Uhura sighed. “There’s just been too much going on,” she said, and Sulu murmured in agreement.
Leo broke the connection after a cursory sign-off, then got up from his chair and called for Chapel.
“You bellowed,” Chapel said in a wry tone. Like Leo, she was still wearing her scrubs, although her hair was now arranged in a braid that fell to the middle of her back.
“I did,” Leo answered, “Sorry. We need to start rotating folks off-shift,” he said reasonably.
“Good plan,” she said. “What’s the ETA on when we get back to Earth?”
“Goddamnit,” he said. “I have no fucking idea. I’ll get you an answer ASAP, but assume that it’s going to be a couple of days.”
Chapel shook her head. “I think we’ll be damned lucky if it’s that short.”
He squinted at her. “Speak,” he said.
Chapel put a hand on her hip at his order, and he made a hand-waving motion that could be interpreted as an apology. She sniffed, but spoke. “Rumor has it that we were thrown halfway across the quadrant by the explosion of the Narada.”
Leo gaped at her.
“Also, that we’ve got no warp capacity.”
“Fuck me,” he said, already on his way out of the office to find Jim.
“No thanks,” Chapel said cheerfully as he simultaneously glared at her and tried not to laugh.
On second thought, he returned and took one of the tricorders and a field kit.
“McCoy!”
He turned around again and made an impatient “What?” gesture.
“You will let me know what you find out, won’t you?” It was clear that this was not a request.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said.
She nodded, then turned her attention to Chris Pike, still fast asleep on the biobed.
+
Leo strode out into the hallway and into quiet chaos. Quiet because everywhere he went, crewmen were working on something -– sparking conduits, panels open to expose the guts of the ship, legs sticking out of Jefferies Tubes –- they were grim-faced and focused on their work. And every one of them, from the rawest Cadet to the oldest hand, looked fucking exhausted.
“Goddamnit,” he said aloud, drawing the attention of a few crew members.
“Doc,” one of them said, “How’s Captain Pike?”
“He’s doing great,” Leo said with assurance, but then noted the way the man was holding himself. “Ensign …?”
“Lima, sir,” came the automatic answer, which was followed by a painful looking attempt at a salute.
“Ensign Lima,” Leo said sternly, running the scanner over him. “Don’t make me come back here with corpsmen who’ll sedate your ass and bring you back to Sickbay. You’ve got two fractured ribs. You finish what you’re doing and get down there. I’ll tell Nurse Chapel to expect you in no more than 30 minutes. You do not,” he said menacingly, “want to make a liar out of me.”
The crewwoman next to him was smirking.
“Don’t smirk so hard there, Ensign …”
“Yao,” the woman answered confidently.
“That burn on your hand needs first aid, too,” Leo said in a no-nonsense tone, opening his kit and cleaning the area gently before he dressed it. “You will report to Sickbay at the end of your shift, correct?”
“Yes, sir,” she said.
“All right then,” Leo said, moving on. All in all, it took him the better part of an hour to make it down to where he needed to turn off to Engineering, and he'd commed Chapel twice to tell her to prepare for walking wounded.
"Goddammit!" he said to no one in particular after he signed off for the second time, marveling inwardly that he'd managed to get himself on a boat full of injury-denying idiots like Jim Kirk. He rounded the corner to where the corridor to Engineering should have been, and only then, when he saw the sealed off route and the evidence of the fire beyond it, did he realize how much damage the ship had taken. "Christ on a hoverbike!" he swore, turning toward the lower half of the man wriggling out of the nearby Jefferies Tube. "Jesus Christ, Cupcake!" he said, hurrying over to the huge young man in the torn red shirt with the massive contusion on his head.
"McCoy," the kid said with a thin smile.
"You look like shit," Leo said gruffly. "Why haven't you gotten your ass to Sickbay?"
"No concussion," Hanlon said. "I scanned myself."
Leo's face was set in a scowl. "Didn't I warn you about you and medical judgment once before?" he growled, scanning him.
"I did my first responder training," Hanlon said tiredly. "I can read a tricorder. Besides, at the time, putting out the fire seemed like a bigger priority."
"And your lungs show the evidence of that," Leo said, scanning the kid. "You need to be treated, just like the other idiots I've encountered on my way here."
Hanlon nodded, "I'll go in a minute," he said, then hastened to add, "do you know how Kaplan is?"
"No idea, kid," Leo said and thought for a minute. "But I don't recall the name on my fatalities list."
Hanlon blew out a breath. "She was pretty badly burned," he said.
"Check with Chapel when you get to Sickbay," Leo ordered, "and before you go, tell me how the fuck do I get to Engineering?"
"OK," Hanlon said, pointing to the tube he'd just come out. "Go in straight for thirty clicks and then take the second left, and …" he was watching Leo's face. "Oh, fuck it, it's easier to just show you, c'mon."
Leo slung the medkit around his body and frowned, but waved a hand. "Fine," he said gruffly. "But you show me and then you turn right back around."
"Yessir," Hanlon said with a hint of his usual brash sarcasm, crawling back into the tube. "You come to get the Captain?"
Leo could feel his eyebrow raising even as he followed Hanlon. "By Captain, you mean Jim Kirk?"
"I do," Hanlon said, without a hint of a flinch in his voice as he swiftly turned a corner.
"Never thought I'd see the day …" Leo said.
"Me neither," Hanlon's voice floated back. "But I'm not going to deny that he did a hell of a thing today."
Leo couldn't think of anything to say to that, so he said nothing, focusing on following Hanlon in the half-light of the Tubes. The environmental controls were set very low, and the air was close and somewhat fetid, and warmer the closer they got to Engineering.
Hanlon punched open a hatch and clambered out, holding the door for Leo. "Doesn't mean I want to marry him, or anything."
"Duly noted," Leo said drily, dusting himself off. He looked at Hanlon for a long moment, then held out his hand. "Thank you, Ensign," he said.
Hanlon hesitated for an instant before he took the proffered hand. "Doctor," he said, shaking it.
"Now get your ass to Sickbay," Leo said firmly.
Hanlon's mouth quirked into a smile. "He's over there," he said, pointing with his head. "Looks like a good wind would knock him over, but you'll probably still have to cold-cock him to get him to lay down." He started to turn toward the tube, but then said casually. "I could take care of that for you."
Leo smiled. "For auld lang syne, or something?"
"I'm pretty sure I still owe him one," Hanlon said.
Leo pointed at the tube with his thumb, and started moving to where Cupcake had indicated.
"Comm me if you want to take me up on it!" Cupcake yelled.
Leo looked over his shoulder to see that Hanlon had crawled back into the tube before he continued into the big bay. The whir of machinery was loud in the bay, but he could hear voices above the din, as crewmen yelled to each other and swore viciously at uncooperative machinery. The smell of soldered metals and synthetics was strong, and here and there, he could see the arc of sparks as things were welded or repaired. Jim, Spock and their erstwhile Chief Engineer stood at the center of the chaos obviously engrossed in a conversation. As he got closer, he could hear the excited voice of the Scotsman over the din as he postulated an idea that Spock immediately shot down.
“The chances of that unorthodox solution working are precisely 1,235:1,” Spock said in his cool affectless tone.
“What are the chances of you coming up with a better idea?” the Scotsman shot back and Leo found himself grinning as Spock raised an eyebrow.
Jim stood between them, looking at the oversized lighted panel in front of them with a considering expression on his face. “I don’t know, Spock,” Jim said thoughtfully. “It’s unorthodox, but I think there’s a germ of a good idea in there.”
Jim went to cross his arms over his chest, and then thought better of it, only the slightest moue of pain crossing his face, but Leo noticed that Spock was aware of his discomfort as Jim planted his hands on his hips and shifted his stance, looking for a comfortable position. The bruises on his face and neck were even more prominent than they had been when Leo had last seen him, and the line of Jim’s jaw was particularly stark against the black of his shirt as he looked down.
“Hail, hail,” Leo said sardonically.
“Bones,” Jim said with surprise. “Is Captain Pike OK?”
“He’s just fine, Captain Kirk,” Leo drawled, loud enough so that the folks around them who were eavesdropping could hear. “He should be awake enough to take report from you in a few hours.”
“That’s great!” Jim said enthusiastically.
Scott, meanwhile, had noticed their lurking listeners. “Back to work you lot!” he yelled. “As if there’s nought to do here with the dear lady in such a state!”
Leo raised an eyebrow at Scott’s description of the Enterprise, only catching himself when he saw that Spock was doing the same thing.
Jim’s tired eyes had begun to twinkle with mirth, and although he was thrilled to see the light return to Jim's eyes, if Jim made a smartass remark comparing him to Spock, he might have to hypo his ass, Captain or not. Or maybe he'd seriously consider taking Cupcake up on his offer. He wouldn't want to damage his hands, after all.
“Speaking of which,” Leo said, cutting off any further conversation. “Someone want to tell me what the fuck is going on?”
Spock’s other eyebrow raised at Leo’s language, and Leo would swear that he pursed his mouth ever so slightly. “To what are you referring?”
“I’m referring,” he growled in Spock’s direction, “to the fact that I’ve been in surgery for the better part of a day, and just spent an hour patching up crew members that should have sought treatment long ago, but … they all tell me that they’ve been too busy, putting out literal fires and whatnot. Not to mention that I had to climb here through the bowels of the ship after I saw that corridor."
"We'll have that fixed in a jiff," Scott said earnestly. "'smostly cosmetic, and a wee bit of a pain in the ass for the work around, but you can go out up the top without going through the tubes."
Spock looked like he was going to protest the 'in the jiff' remark, so Leo hastened to speak up. "Well, that'll be better on my knees, so I thank you, but my point is that you've got an exhausted, somewhat traumatized bunch of kids trying to fix up a boat that clearly needs getting to Spacedock. No offense, Mr. Scott," he said, to forestall the Engineer's outburst.
Jim sighed and scrubbed one of his hands across his face before he ran a hand over his head and rubbed his neck. Leo found himself itching to whip out a tricorder at clearly seeing the damage to Jim's knuckles and fingers. "The thing is, Bones," Jim said quietly. "We are nowhere near a Spacedock."
Leo nodded. "How far away are we?"
"At warp, it would be the better part of a day," Spock answered. "But considering that we are currently without warp capacity, and that we are suffering from significant damage that is likely to be adversely affected by higher rates of speed, the nearest Spacedock is five Earth days away."
Leo nodded again. Jim's gloomy expression had told him that the situation was as bad as Christine had feared.
"And that Spacedock," Spock continued, "is inadequate for a ship the size of Enterprise."
"The point, Mr. Spock?" Leo said curtly, reminded of interns who were more interested in impressing their classmates with their breadth of knowledge on a topic, and lost focus on the actual patient needing care.
"Under optimal circumstances, and without a tow from one of the ships currently en route from the Laurentian system, approximately 7.65 Terran days."
"Thank you," Leo said, baring his teeth in a mocking smile. "And why," he said to Jim, "are we not expecting a tow from someone else in the fleet?"
"They're assuming defensive positions at key points along the Neutral Zone," Jim said quietly.
Leo nodded, considering the new information.
"We'll be fine, Bones," Jim said, "they're not likely to come out here."
Leo looked at Jim with a puzzled expression on his face. "I have no doubt that we're doing as well as we possibly can, Captain," he said firmly. "My concerns are about this crew, who've been working flat out for far longer than they should without adequate rest or food."
Jim looked startled at Leo's assertion.
"What are the provision levels like?" Leo demanded of Spock.
"Good," Spock answered. "The ship was stocked with the idea that a stay at Vulcan -" Leo detected only the tiniest pause in Spock's speech before he continued "- might be necessary or that we'd be required to provide disaster relief."
"So the mess is operational?"
"I would assume so," Spock said.
"Let's not assume," Leo growled. "We need to make sure that it's up and functional, and announce shift rotations for meals, and then rest."
"Lieutenant Commander," Spock said smoothly, "surely staff going offshift can take an MRE with them to quarters for the time being."
"It's Doctor," Leo said firmly, "and that is not an acceptable plan. The crew needs to be together, to share the communal act of a meal, to talk and remember and take solace from knowing that they're not alone. With all due respect for your own losses, I doubt that there's a person aboard this ship who didn't lose at least one person that they loved today."
Jim's expression was somber, his eyes fixed on something over Leo's shoulder. "You're right, Bones," he said quietly. "Make a shift schedule," he said to Spock, "I'll take the last meal."
Leo looked over his shoulder while Jim's focus was off him, and noticed Raji up on one of the catwalks above them. Fuck. “I was actually thinking that it would be best if you take the first meal shift, Captain.”
Jim shook his head. “I’ll be present at all the meals,” he said quietly, “but I won’t eat until the last one.”
Leo’s brows drew down in consternation. This was exactly not what he wanted to hear from his banged-up, exhausted friend. He opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off by Spock.
“I’m sure that the crew will appreciate the sign of respect, Captain Kirk,” Spock said smoothly.
“They deserve no less,” Jim said firmly, and Leo sighed, hoping that he could make Jim eat something between now and then, but recognizing that it was likely to be a battle that he was going to lose.
“Tradition?” Leo asked, hoping that there wasn’t any more to it.
“The Captain doesn’t eat or sleep until the crew has,” Jim said simply.
“Traditionally, it is organized by rank, with the lower ranks being served first. In other words, the entire command crew should rightfully go last," Spock said.
From Jim's shrug, Leo knew that he would be the last person to eat or to rest, unless Leo could do something about that. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes or pinch the bridge of his nose, and thought strategically instead. Traditions were all well and good, but most of the crew was not beaten to shit the way the Captain was. The Captain should actually be in Sickbay, and although he did not want to undermine Jim’s command in any way, he could not authorize Jim staying on duty for much longer, lest the ship be left without a Captain yet again.
"With all due respect, Captain," Leo said, making his move. He kept his voice low. "I would suggest that Commander Spock take a break now, attend the last dinner break, and return to the bridge for the remainder of the beta and gamma shifts." Spock looked like he was about to object, so Leo kept talking, throwing out the carrot. "I understand that this is highly unorthodox, but unless I am grossly mistaken, the Commander has no injuries that need attending."
Spock nodded to indicate that this was true.
"But considering the day that you have endured, I'm willing to bet that a period of meditation would be restorative," Spock's expression did not change one iota at Leo's statement. "I'm also assuming that the Bridge crew would eat on the last shift. Is that correct?"
Spock tilted his head to indicate assent.
"I believe that it's important that the Bridge crew spend some time together, in light of the collective experience that they've shared,” Leo paused, and looked from Jim to Spock. “In fact, I think that there are members of that crew that would specifically benefit from Commander Spock's presence."
Both Jim and Spock looked surprised by Leo's assertion, but Spock's surprise had an assessing tone as he stared at Leo.
Yes, you ass, he thought, I am talking about your girlfriend. God help her.
"Also," Leo continued, turning his attention back to Jim, "if you consent to come off shift after the last dinner break and rest, Captain, I'll be able to render some necessary first aid in privacy. You'll be fresh and ready to resume command come Alpha tomorrow."
Leo didn’t need to know Spock very well to know that he had recognized the validity in the plan.
“I concur with Lieut -- Doctor McCoy’s plan, Captain,” Spock said.
"No time in Sickbay," Jim said in a bargaining tone, his voice pitched not to carry.
"Done," Leo said, knowing a deal when one was struck. "Mr. Scott," he asked. "Are you willing to work out a shift schedule for your staff?"
"Oh, aye," he said, "the lads and lassies here will work better with a good supper in them, and as long as I can get a sandwich, it'll all be good, but …" he hesitated, "there has been damage to crew quarters."
Jim nodded, considering.
"If I could make another suggestion," Leo said.
Jim waved a hand tiredly.
"I think that berthing assignments should be sorted out for the comfort of crew members, and a blind eye turned to any fraternization matters," Leo said frankly.
Spock's eyebrow was raising to its hairline. “That is an extremely unorthodox suggestion, Doctor,” he said.
"It has been a hell of a day," Leo said quietly, "and people are going to have to double up anyway. I’m not saying that you make such assignments officially, merely that you recognize that social creatures require companionship, and not just in the dining hall. It's an essential component of mental health."
Jim nodded, but there was a ghost of a smile on his face. "So noted," he said wryly.
Leo raised his own eyebrow in a challenging fashion at Spock, who visibly tamped down further objections, then excused himself back to Sickbay.
"I'll see you in the mess, Captain," he said to Jim, waiting to move until he saw Jim's nod.
+
Leo was relieved to see Jim sitting on the edge of his bed when he came into the bedroom of the cabin that he'd been assigned before he'd been elevated to CMO, even though the sight of Jim sitting, still and forlorn with elbows on knees and head in hands, was breaking his heart.
"When you said that you were going to eat last, I mistakenly took that to mean that you were going to eat in the mess, Jim," Leo said quietly. He'd watched as Jim had moved from table to table, talking to and reassuring crew members, praising them for a job well done and urging them to eat, bringing food to those who needed encouragement, clapping shoulders, talking and listening. Leo knew that Jim had done the same during both of the earlier meal periods, because he'd checked in on the crew himself, in between organizing the shift rotations for medical personnel with Chapel, and ensuring that his own staff was housed and fed before he signed out for the night.
"Not hungry, Bones," Jim said softly, not moving from his despondent position.
Leo sighed and put the clean clothes and toiletry kits that he'd cajoled out of the kid filling in for the CHOP on the shelf outside the bathroom that he shared with a still on-duty M'Benga. "C'mon, Jim," he said to him quietly, running a hand over his hair. "You'll feel better after you clean up." Jim leaned into his caress, pressing his left side up against Leo's thigh.
"So tired, Bones," he said, exhaustedly.
"I know, Jimmy," Leo said, continuing to soothe him the way he'd wanted to for hours. "But you're one big walking bruise, and I hate to tell you, but you smell like the hind end of a donkey."
Jim's chuckle was faint, and a little watery, but there. He turned his face into Leo's hip and sniffed. "You smell like hospital," he observed.
"And clean laundry," Leo said, stepping back and shrugging out of the new blues that he'd gotten from the erstwhile chief, leaving him in just his black undershirt and pants. "I'm not sure that the laundry will be able to salvage that shirt."
"'s'ok," Jim said, "I can't lift my arms to get it off anyway, so I'll just wear it into the shower."
"Hell you will," Leo said, reaching over him for the medkit. He pulled out a scissor and held Jim's head still, making a cut at the back of the shirt and then using the blade to neatly slice it in two.
"Kinky," Jim observed drily, but Leo was too busy wincing at the state of Jim's ribs and his back to make a rejoinder.
"Jesus, Jim," he said, after he carefully pulled the shirt off his arms. "You really are one big bruise." He crouched down in front of him to get at his boots.
"Yeah," Jim said. He looked at Leo briefly, then dropped his head forward onto Leo's shoulder, resting his weight on him as Leo wrestled with his boots and pulled off his socks.
"C'mon Jim," he said, placing a hand on the back of his neck and kissing his jaw. "Help me a little here."
Jim sighed and leaned back slightly to look at him. "You ruined my history-making shirt," he groused, but it seemed mechanical, like he was trying to act normal.
"They can sew it right up the back for the Jim Kirk Exhibit at the UFP Pavilion," Leo said lightly. "Can you stand up for me?"
Jim huffed scornfully but stood, still leaning heavily on Leo. "Oh," he said, looking down as Leo unbuttoned them. "Are you finally getting into my pants?"
Leo smiled and gave Jim's right buttock a squeeze as he pushed his pants off, then thought better of it when the flinch that provoked looked a lot more like discomfort than pleasure. "Sorry," he said, bending to gently lift Jim's feet out of his filthy trousers. He hid the tender smile that seeing Jim's scrawny legs always provoked, even now when they were as beat to hell as the rest of him, and stood up only to have Jim press up against him.
"Don't apologize," Jim ordered in a weary tone from where he'd hidden his face against Leo's neck.
"Can you get in the shower by yourself?" Leo asked.
"In a minute," Jim muttered, still leaning. His hands had come up to cover Leo's hips, but trying to raise his arms higher had only resulted in stifled hitches meant to mask the pain.
"What're you doing?" Leo asked, running a hand through Jim's hair again. His scalp seemed to be the only place that wasn't bruised, except maybe for the soles of his feet.
"Improving my mental health by seeking solace in companionship," Jim said languidly.
Leo chuckled and tugged at the hair at the back of his scalp. When Jim moved his face to protest, he kissed his bruised lips gently, tasting Jim's exhaustion before he sighed against him. "C'mon now, Jimmy," he said gently. "Get in the shower and clean up."
"More solace," Jim requested.
Leo chuckled and kissed him again, trailing kisses over his bruised cheek as Jim shifted and then moaned in pain when he twisted his sore neck trying to reach Leo's mouth. "You'll get some more solace after you brush your teeth," Leo said, stepping back but keeping hold of Jim. "Go on."
Jim grumbled, but shuffled across the room to the bathroom. Now that he was no longer acting the part of the Captain for the crew, he was walking like a man far older than his years, and Leo shadowed him, unsure of how steady he truly was.
"There's a tub," Jim said with awe when the lights came on.
"Which you are far too grimy to get into," Leo said with a smile, switching the room status to occupied, in case M'Benga or perhaps a guest wanted to access the facilities.
"Bones …" Jim protested.
"Shower," Leo answered firmly. "There's water and everything, but I want you to run a sonic, too -- it'll kill anything that's brewing."
Jim pursed his lips as if to argue, but he sighed instead, stepping toward the cubicle as Leo turned to go back into the cabin. When Leo heard the water come on, he tossed Jim's laundry down the chute and moved his boots to the end of the bed, then slipped out the main door, headed to the mess.
When he got back to the room, Jim was back on the bed, seated in the same despondent position that he'd been in before. This time, however, his hair was darkened by the water, his bruises stark against the pallor of his fair skin, the full expanse of which was only hidden from Leo's view by the blue sleep shorts that he'd procured for him.
"Hard for you to solace me when you're on another deck," Jim said casually. He took a breath in and sniffed, raising his head to look at the covered bowls in Leo's hands. "Bones …" he protested.
"It's soup, Jim," Leo said. "You can just drink it right down and get your vitamins." Not to mention that he'd fortified them both with protein powders and calorie extenders that would be tasteless, but nourishing. "The meds I'm going to give you will work better if you've eaten."
"Bones …"
"Please, Jim," Leo said to him quietly, crouching down in front of him. "Just drink it."
Jim's weary blue eyes searched his. "I can't promise to drink both of those," he said.
"You pick which one you want," Leo said. "Plomeek or chicken?" At the word plomeek, something in Jim's expression cracked and became jagged.
"You got me plomeek?" he whispered.
"I made sure it was on the menu tonight," Leo said. "Comfort food."
Jim's laugh was watery. "It's the most boring comfort food ever invented," he said, but he reached for the bowl and Leo uncovered it, putting the chicken soup on the nightstand as he reached for his tricorder.
He was watching Jim as he sipped at the warm broth, seeing the warm flush return to his cheeks as he did so, even though the hands around the bowl were faintly tremoring. Leo worked as swiftly as possible, strapping regenerators to Jim's ribs, his knees, his shoulders, and trying to keep his sighing to a minimum at the damage he was uncovering: strains, fractures, and misalignments everywhere he looked.
"Going to be hard to sleep with all that crap on me," Jim said thickly. "It's like bugs crawling under my skin." He stiffened suddenly. "Pike?" he asked.
"He's doing great," Leo said. "No bugs."
Jim nodded wearily, his head over the cupped bowl and the dregs of the soup that were in it. Leo watched in silent sorrow as a tear dropped into the bowl.
"Jim …" he said, kneeling down in front of him.
"All those people," Jim said softly, staring into the bowl, but Leo knew that he was seeing the empty space where Vulcan had been, all that had been destroyed by a madman's vengeance. Leo wiped the tears from his cheek gently, more unnerved by Jim's silent weeping than he would have been by an outburst.
"I know, Jim," Leo said.
"The KFF, Bones," Jim said in anguish, and his hands gripped the bowl so hard that Leo eased it from his hold and wrapped himself around him.
"Shh …" Leo soothed. He felt the hot wash of tears on his neck, the curl of Jim's fists against his back, and he held on, despite the fact that the regens were cutting into him and being displaced.
"My kids," Jim said brokenly, and Leo felt the shudder that ran through him from head to toe, and pulled Jim in tighter, kissing his temple and his brow, feeling the tears rising in his own chest at Jim's grief.
"I know, Jimmy, I know," he said thickly, wiping at his own eyes, and trying to push away the knowledge that so many people -- so many young people -- that they had known were dead and gone in an eyeblink. He held on until he felt Jim's body become lax, then stood, pulling Jim up with him as he turned down the covers.
"Bones," Jim said, his tone hazy and confused. "Did you sedate me?"
"No," Leo said surely. "You're just totally exhausted." He swung Jim's feet up onto the bed and adjusted all the regens back into their proper positions before he covered him, taking time to set some new ones on his hands and his neck, and then hypoing him with some muscle relaxants.
"I won't even be able to take a piss," Jim complained.
"Do you have to?" Leo asked, surprised, "or are you just grousing?"
Jim smiled, eyes closed. "Grousin'," he said sleepily.
Leo bent forward and kissed him. "Shut up and go to sleep, boy," he ordered.
"Where you goin'?" Jim asked, starting to wake back up.
"Nowhere," Leo said, toeing off his boots, and stripping off his pants and undershirt. He crawled up the other side of the too small bed and slid under the covers on his side, shifting Jim so that he was practically laying atop him, his back resting against Leo's chest. "Lights off," he ordered the computer, and blinked as it complied and the unfamiliar room became pitch dark.
Jim murmured and shifted against him, trying to find a more comfortable position, then settled. He let out one long, whistling sigh that sounded something like his nickname for Leo, and fell blessedly asleep, his battered frame relaxing and becoming a somnolent weight against Leo, holding him down, anchoring him to the bed.
Leo bent his arm up to stroke it through Jim's hair and leaned forward, kissing the join of Jim's neck where it flowed gracefully into his shoulder. "I'm going nowhere without you, kid," he promised Jim. Then he closed his eyes, and let his breathing match Jim's as he tumbled after him into sleep.
+
Switch 39
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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Date: 2009-11-19 02:56 am (UTC)<3
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Date: 2009-11-25 02:59 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-19 02:57 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-25 02:59 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-19 02:57 am (UTC)OH BOYS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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Date: 2009-11-19 03:30 am (UTC)Next installment? Pretty please?
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Date: 2009-11-19 03:00 am (UTC)poor Jim and Bones, and everyone else. Keep up the good work!
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Date: 2009-11-19 04:04 am (UTC)(no subject)
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Date: 2009-11-19 03:06 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-25 03:03 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-19 03:06 am (UTC)and the mending in process
thank you for sharing >____
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Date: 2009-11-25 03:04 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-19 03:06 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-25 03:04 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-19 03:07 am (UTC)"My kids," Jim said brokenly, Oh, we know, Jim :( :(
Just terrific!
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Date: 2009-11-25 03:05 am (UTC)I really worried about how you and the other KFFers would feel about this, but ... so much death in the idea of the movie, you know?
:: pats you ::
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Date: 2009-11-19 03:10 am (UTC)And then the little bit of h/c with Jim and Bones was beautiful. Nice contrast to their earlier experiences sharing a bed, now they both admitted that they needed to be there with each other.
Very nice work. Still fascinated by this series.
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Date: 2009-11-25 03:06 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-19 03:10 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-19 03:12 pm (UTC)(no subject)
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Date: 2009-11-19 03:13 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-25 03:07 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-19 03:15 am (UTC)So, as always, I'll just say: thank you SO much!
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Date: 2009-11-21 08:51 am (UTC)(no subject)
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Date: 2009-11-19 03:19 am (UTC)Oh, and:
Yes, you ass, he thought, I am talking about your girlfriend. God help her.
Your girlfriend indeed, Spock <3
Sooo much love. I can feel their exhaustion and it made me inexplicably happy that they finally got to sleep.
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Date: 2009-11-25 03:10 am (UTC)I think that the road to a Bones/Spock friendship is far more rocky in this 'verse. (Actually, I feel the same way about a Jim/Spock friendship as well.)
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Date: 2009-11-19 03:21 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-25 03:10 am (UTC):: pats you ::
You're welcome and thank you!
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Date: 2009-11-19 03:22 am (UTC)I wish I could say something much more profound, but words seem to escape me.
Lovely, lovely work.
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Date: 2009-11-25 03:11 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-19 03:23 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-25 03:11 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-19 03:24 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-25 03:11 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-19 03:24 am (UTC)Gah....boys....
Can't wait for more.
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Date: 2009-11-25 03:11 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-19 03:28 am (UTC)Happy Birthday to me!
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Date: 2009-11-25 03:12 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-19 03:30 am (UTC)Your detailing on Pike's surgery was great and I absolutely adore the fact that Jim was watching from the observation space. Sweet moment there.
Bones taking charge in engineering was perfect. I'm glad to see that you filled in the blank spaces there. Ever since watching the movie today, I've been longing for more and you never disappoint.
The ending scene with Jim and Bones was absolutely beautiful. Jim's broken heart broke my heart. I'm glad that he has Bones to piece it back together for him.
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Date: 2009-11-25 03:12 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-19 03:40 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-25 03:13 am (UTC):: hands you tissue ::
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Date: 2009-11-19 03:47 am (UTC)Jim's tears for his kids broke my heart, though. So, so glad that he's got Leo.
Wonderful!
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Date: 2009-11-25 03:13 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-19 03:49 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-25 03:14 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-19 03:51 am (UTC)But i thank you.
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Date: 2009-11-25 03:14 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-19 03:55 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-11-25 03:14 am (UTC)