Fic: Levicity AKA Planet of the Dead - Kirk/McCoy (2/7)
Title: Levicity AKA Planet of the Dead (2/7)
Author: blurhawaii
Pairing: Kirk/McCoy
Rating: PG-13. Bit of swearing, blood and zombies.
Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek.
Summary: Written for the st_xi_kink for this prompt - Zombies. A planet of zombies.
Word count: Around 3300.
Previous part: Part 1
Part 2
It looked exactly as it had yesterday; the only change was that Spock was also standing next to him today. Other than that, everything was as they had left it. The wind had picked up a bit from yesterday and, out in the open as they were, it ripped and pulled at Jim’s shirt. Buildings, though empty, continued to stand and the streets, though cluttered, continued to exist.
Ensigns McCrae and Williams also stood by Jim’s side. They were only too happy to beam back down, most likely just to get off the ship again, and Jim shook his head at their eagerness. Something unnatural about the planet still plagued him, but he pushed it to the back of his mind. He was the Captain of a starship; it was going to take much more than a relentlessly chilling planet to put him off his duties. As he thought this, his earlier itch returned, reminding him not to get too comfortable here. It was easy to forget the silence and isolation of this planet but the itch was difficult to ignore.
Spock, on the other hand, acted with refined professionalism. Nothing seemed to faze him. He stepped towards the city, not noticing that the grass had thinned and turned into concrete. Jim watched, from the outskirts of the city, as McCrae and Williams followed the science officer and not their Captain.
Even from here, he could see Spock’s arm waving ever so slightly while he pointed the tricorder every which way. It was the eyebrow raise that caused Jim to trek over to where he was standing. McCrae had stopped at one of the tall buildings to try the door, whereas Williams had wondered off to the other end of the street, so it left only Jim to hear what Spock was saying.
“According to this, the air here is made mainly of oxygen. Unlike Earth where the air is composed of mostly nitrogen, Levicity seems to be suffering from the lack of people and overabundance of vegetation.”
Spock carried on after he spotted the blank look on Jim’s face. It wasn’t that he didn’t understand it, he knew how breathing worked; he was just trying to figure out if this was a good enough reason to order everyone back to the ship and away from this creepy planet. He settled on maybe not, though he kept the thought close by just in case nothing better came up.
“While we are here, we will most likely experience bouts of light-headedness as we are not use to this level of high oxygen in our bodies.”
“Right. Breathe less. Got it.”
Jim turned away from Spock and spoke into the empty street. He was looking for Williams who had disappeared from the horizon. McCrae was thankfully still nearby, but Jim couldn’t see Williams anymore.
“That is not what I meant, Captain.”
“I know, Spock.” Jim sighed. He faced Spock again, ignoring his raised eyebrow this time. “Can you see Williams anywhere?”
“He has disappeared, Captain”
“Yes, I know he has disappeared. That’s why I asked if you could see him.”
“If you knew, then why would you bother asking me?”
Jim was about to carry on, when he managed to catch himself in time. Arguing wouldn’t help them, they needed to find Williams. He ignored Spock’s question, but he didn’t seem to mind, as he understood the situation. Jim called McCrae over and asked if he knew which way Williams went. He pointed towards the end of the street, where Jim had last seen him. They were about halfway there when Williams appeared again. He was jogging their way. He noticed them before he got close and turned and gestured back the way he came.
“I think you should see this Captain.”
Williams led them to an abandoned house just off the main street they were following yesterday. Most of the windows were smashed and very few of them were boarded up. The front door was ripped off its hinges and lay a few feet down the road, scratches and gouges covering most of the side they could see. Jim didn’t know why he hadn’t noticed it the day before. Although it wasn’t the only house to appear as if the residents had been attacked, it was definitely the worse looking one.
Williams didn’t stop outside though; he carried on going, not really giving the mess a second look. Getting inside was relatively easy, as it had no door, but when inside, the upturned furniture made it a bit unstable to manoeuvre around. A, no longer plush looking, sofa was pushed close to the door, meaning you had to climb over it to actually get in the house. Again, Williams didn’t bat an eye, he just clambered over and continued into what Jim guessed was a kitchen.
As Jim took his turn over the sofa, his eyes were drawn to the walls. There had obviously been a family living here as the walls were decorated in photos. Over time dust had settled and dimmed the frames and faces, but the amount of them proved that it was a loving family. He had to forcefully tear his eyes away in the end, as it reminded him of all the things that were wrong with this planet.
It turned out Jim had been right about it being a kitchen. Though, what he had expected to see was counters, cupboards and maybe a table and some chairs, but what he actually saw was something of a crime scene.
There were indeed all of the things most kitchens had in them, but also some things that you wouldn’t normally see. Such as the large darkened sticky puddle underneath the shattered window. Shards of glass had fallen into the puddle and had been stained a dark red, almost black colour.
A bundle of quilts had also been stashed in the corner of the room; one was laid out like it was a bed for a dog, and still had imprints in it as though something had only just left it. The ends, of the one laid out, disappeared into the dark tiled floor, almost making it invisible. It was coated in whatever was pooling on the kitchen floor. The copper coloured material reminded Jim of his childhood. He remembered the time one of their work dogs had gotten pregnant and given birth in their living room. His mom hadn’t let him watch as he was around six at the time, but he remembered the aftermath. His eyes had spotted the bloodied bed she had laid on. Though he quickly spotted the puppies shortly after, and to a six year old nothing else mattered. Something told him that this wasn’t a dog though, there was too much blood.
Jim stepped further into the kitchen. On closer inspection, he realised he could make out handprints in the puddle. They moved outwards towards the window, smearing a trail of fingers as it went. There were a few splatters dotting the walls near the puddle as well, and a clear handprint on the left side on the window where the glass had been crushed and removed, mostly likely, by the person’s palm.
The air in the kitchen didn’t seem like it was over oxygenated. It was stuffy and bitter, Jim was finding it hard to get a satisfying lungful. He breathed deeply turning away from the kitchen, only to end up facing the living room again. The photos were the first thing he saw. A chill ran up his spine and caused him to shiver. The deep breathing had also left him feeling a bit dizzy.
Jim stumbled out of the house, struggling with the sofa at first, but eventually managing to land unsteadily on his feet outside in the streets. The entire time he tried to keep from looking at the photos or back at the kitchen. Spock quickly appeared at his elbow, a Vulcan version of concern of his face.
“Are you okay Captain?”
Jim was leaning forward with his hands on his thighs, attempting to keep his breaths slow and shallow.
“I’m fine. Just a bit light-headed.” He stood up straighter, waving his hand weakly in Spock’s direction, meaning to imply he didn’t need to worry, though the gesture itself seemed to contradict the meaning. “I should work on that ‘no breathing’ thing.” He added as an afterthought, and chuckled.
“I’m afraid I don’t see the humour, Captain. If you stopped breathing you would die.”
McCrae and Williams joined them at this point, giving both Jim and Spock a puzzled look.
“Remind me never to joke around you, Spock.”
---
After the house, they didn’t bother to explore any of the side streets leading to the more rural areas of the city. They instead kept to the main street. Before they reached the paper covered area, they turned right at one of the many empty intersections, choosing a different path than the one they travelled last time. The scenery wasn’t much different, they still passed empty office buildings, fuel dry cars and scattered belongings.
Every time they happened on a coat or jacket, McCrae would stop and fish in the pockets, hoping to find anything that would help shed some light on what was happening. Every time, his search left him holding nothing but useless scraps of paper, old earth-like currency and pocket lint. Nothing that was any help.
They walked for another hour; slowly the buildings began getting less dense and grass had surfaced again in forms of parks and gardens. The landing party eventually reached a large area where all the main streets seemed to converge and a public park was placed in the middle. The grass was over grown and the branches of the trees were dipping over railings and starting to shade the roads. With no one around to tame them, they were slowly taking over the grey parts of the city.
They followed the park until it led them to the street opposite the way they had come in. Across the road was a building so big and white that Jim was surprised they hadn’t noticed it before. The large sign outside read ‘Levicity Hospital’ in bold red lettering, and underneath that was a giant red cross, just in case you hadn’t notice the words. Unlike the rest of the drab, boring looking city, the hospital was very bright and new. Although, it still looked a little run down in places, it was obviously the building that had survived the best.
Jim set off towards the emergency room entrance. Most of the glass doors were broken anyway, so it wouldn’t be a challenge to get inside. Spock, McCrae and Williams followed wordlessly, the glass crunching under their boots. When inside, Jim and Spock went one way, keeping nearer the exits, while McCrae and Williams went the other way, following the hallways deeper into the hospital. Jim ordered then to stay together and to contact him if they found anything.
The emergency room, Jim and Spock was looking around, was completely empty. Everything was relatively undisturbed, the beds were left made and the floors were clean and white. There was a station near the door which was clear of any clutter and only held a very old computer that wouldn’t work without electricity. Strangely, a strong antiseptic smell still hung about in the room, despite it being deserted for an indefinite amount of time. It was familiar. It felt safe. Jim allowed himself to relax for the first time since he beamed down onto the planet.
Before he really realised what he was doing, Jim was reaching for the communicator on his belt. He stopped in front of a tray on a cart. With one hand he rolled an old equivalent of a hypospray along his fingers, while his other hand flipped open the communicator.
“Kirk to sickbay.”
If Spock was confused, he didn’t show it. Jim could see him out of the corner of his eye as he faced the cart; he was standing with his hands clasped behind his back and a passive look on his face. He may have been trying to look uninterested, but Jim was certain he was watching him and listening to what he was saying.
---
McCoy was busy pulling the see-through, skin tight gloves off of his hands when the intercom on the wall began beeping. One of them was stuck on his fingertips and wouldn’t come off no matter how much he tugged, so he was struggling to press the button in time to speak.
Nurse Chapel shuffled her feet in the background, wondering whether she should help or not. McCoy sent her a smile and a shake of his head, telling her he was fine. She continued to look unconvinced when McCoy tried to hold the button down with his elbow, while still trying to free his hand.
“This is McCoy.”
McCoy was sure his elbow had slipped at least once while he had answered, and he hoped Jim had still been able to understand him.
“Are you okay Bones? You sound a bit weird. You’re not busy are you?”
Over the intercom, McCoy could hear Jim moving about. He heard something clatter like he had just placed something metal onto a counter.
“I’m fine, and no I’m not busy - come on you little fucker. Let go.”
McCoy was only really half paying attention to the conversation, at the moment. He was a little distracted by the glove to care. He hadn’t realised that Jim could hear him talking to them, while he held the button down with his elbow at an awkward angle.
“Excuse me?”
He could hear the laughter behind Jim’s voice, and it annoyed him. His brow furrowed in frustration, and he tried once again to pull his hand free from the glove’s grasp. It almost worked. One of the fingers stretched taught and snapped away from his skin causing him to yelp slightly. It wasn’t just Jim who laughed out loud at him; McCoy turned his head to see Chapel giggling into the back of her hand. McCoy would never admit it, but he actually growled at her.
“Don’t you have work to be doing?”
Chapel just smiled and disappeared into another part of the sickbay. She even had the fore-thought not to mention that he had just pointed out that they were not busy, and there wasn’t actually anything that needed to be done. She instead left silently, having learnt early on not to be offended by McCoy harsh sounding tones.
“What’s going on Bones? Am I interrupting something? Was that Nurse Chapel I heard giggling in the background?”
Jim’s voice took on a teasing tone that didn’t help McCoy’s frustration with him. Now that the glove was partially off, the rest was relatively easy to remove. It peeled away without much force and McCoy tossed it towards the nearest medical bin, all the while fighting the complaints of ‘why couldn’t it have just done that earlier?’
“Is that all you think about?”
“Well, it’s kind of hard not to when it’s just being thrusted at me all the while.”
“Ok. I am definitely not thrusting anything at you. Let’s make that clear right now.”
“Oh Bones, you tease.”
The tease in question rubbed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, trying desperately to quell the headache that was beginning to form. It didn’t seem to be helping though, so he tried a different tactic. Changing the subject.
“Was there a reason why you contacted sickbay? Or did you just feel that, all too familiar, urge creeping up telling you it was time to annoy me?”
“No, there was nothing in particular. I just saw something that reminded me of you and thought I should give you a call. I mean, how long has it been? Five, six hours now?”
“Damn it, Jim. I have more important things to be doing that don’t involve us prattling on like two teenage girls.”
A silence lulled between them. McCoy still held the intercom button down, though now with his hand and not his elbow. For a moment he thought that maybe Jim had gone. Like he had finally taken something he had said seriously. Though, he swiftly branded himself an idiot when Jim began talking again, completely ignoring McCoy outburst. Seriously, what was he thinking?
“You’d like it down here Bones. You should see this hospital. It’s like your dream come true.” McCoy heard the sounds of draws being opened and rummaged through in the background of Jim’s slightly wistful words. “It would just be you and the entire hospital to run. There would be no ensigns tripping over their own tongues and feet.”
“It sounds like a veritable paradise. Though, I don’t think it would right without you constantly walking through the doors, complaining about another broken nose.” McCoy sighed, bringing his head up from his hand. “By the way, how did it go with the trees? I was expecting you back five minutes after you left.”
Jim’s voice picked up again, returning to its usual jest. Despite the inane subject, Jim always managed to speak about with such passion that subject often didn’t matter.
“You should have seen it. They were like putty in my hands.”
Both of them laughed at the way their conversation had derailed slightly. McCoy’s hand was starting to ache a bit from holding the button down; these things weren’t really designed for long conversations.
“I take it things are pretty slow down there.”
Jim paused for a moment like he was carefully choosing how best to word it. This wasn’t something Jim normally did, so McCoy took that as a sign as to how bad the problem was.
“Yeah, things are pretty slow, I guess.” Jim never was overly eloquent though. “I don’t know what it is about this place, but…”
McCoy waited at least ten seconds for Jim to finish his sentence, believing he was just pausing for the effect. It wasn’t until then that he realised that something had interrupted him.
“Jim? What going on?”
Instead of hearing Jim answering, McCoy was met with a scream.
It wasn’t particularly loud, so it couldn’t have come from Jim himself, but it was a very guttural noise. Whoever was making it was in serious pain. McCoy tried getting Jim’s attention to find out what was happening, but he seemed to be distracted and reluctant to respond. Standing in the sickbay on the Enterprise, McCoy could hear the pounding footstep made by someone close to the communicator on Jim’s end. The footsteps stayed constant, but the screaming was slowly getting louder and more frantic. It was a man’s voice, so McCoy gathered that it was one of the landing party.
There was a loud bang, like a door slamming open so fast that it hit the wall and bounced. Many voices then spoke over the other. Some shouting; some whispering; some staying completely unchanged. The screaming was the loudest of them all. Earlier it had sounded far away and unreal. It was dry and raspy. Hoarse and painful, ripping its way out of the man’s throat. Now, it was closer, louder and harder to doubt. It sounded wet, as if the person was trying to gargle at the same time. Screams bubbled and hiccupped out of the man’s throat now.
He was so caught up in the screaming, that it took a while for McCoy to notice Jim was talking. Though, in reality, it was more than talking, it was shouting. McCoy actually flinched on the spot when the harsh noise of Jim’s voice caught him off guard.
“Bones get down here now! Something attacked Williams. It looks like it tried to rip his throat out. He’s bleeding too much!”
McCoy was already half way out of the door, before Jim had finished.
Author: blurhawaii
Pairing: Kirk/McCoy
Rating: PG-13. Bit of swearing, blood and zombies.
Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek.
Summary: Written for the st_xi_kink for this prompt - Zombies. A planet of zombies.
Word count: Around 3300.
Previous part: Part 1
Part 2
It looked exactly as it had yesterday; the only change was that Spock was also standing next to him today. Other than that, everything was as they had left it. The wind had picked up a bit from yesterday and, out in the open as they were, it ripped and pulled at Jim’s shirt. Buildings, though empty, continued to stand and the streets, though cluttered, continued to exist.
Ensigns McCrae and Williams also stood by Jim’s side. They were only too happy to beam back down, most likely just to get off the ship again, and Jim shook his head at their eagerness. Something unnatural about the planet still plagued him, but he pushed it to the back of his mind. He was the Captain of a starship; it was going to take much more than a relentlessly chilling planet to put him off his duties. As he thought this, his earlier itch returned, reminding him not to get too comfortable here. It was easy to forget the silence and isolation of this planet but the itch was difficult to ignore.
Spock, on the other hand, acted with refined professionalism. Nothing seemed to faze him. He stepped towards the city, not noticing that the grass had thinned and turned into concrete. Jim watched, from the outskirts of the city, as McCrae and Williams followed the science officer and not their Captain.
Even from here, he could see Spock’s arm waving ever so slightly while he pointed the tricorder every which way. It was the eyebrow raise that caused Jim to trek over to where he was standing. McCrae had stopped at one of the tall buildings to try the door, whereas Williams had wondered off to the other end of the street, so it left only Jim to hear what Spock was saying.
“According to this, the air here is made mainly of oxygen. Unlike Earth where the air is composed of mostly nitrogen, Levicity seems to be suffering from the lack of people and overabundance of vegetation.”
Spock carried on after he spotted the blank look on Jim’s face. It wasn’t that he didn’t understand it, he knew how breathing worked; he was just trying to figure out if this was a good enough reason to order everyone back to the ship and away from this creepy planet. He settled on maybe not, though he kept the thought close by just in case nothing better came up.
“While we are here, we will most likely experience bouts of light-headedness as we are not use to this level of high oxygen in our bodies.”
“Right. Breathe less. Got it.”
Jim turned away from Spock and spoke into the empty street. He was looking for Williams who had disappeared from the horizon. McCrae was thankfully still nearby, but Jim couldn’t see Williams anymore.
“That is not what I meant, Captain.”
“I know, Spock.” Jim sighed. He faced Spock again, ignoring his raised eyebrow this time. “Can you see Williams anywhere?”
“He has disappeared, Captain”
“Yes, I know he has disappeared. That’s why I asked if you could see him.”
“If you knew, then why would you bother asking me?”
Jim was about to carry on, when he managed to catch himself in time. Arguing wouldn’t help them, they needed to find Williams. He ignored Spock’s question, but he didn’t seem to mind, as he understood the situation. Jim called McCrae over and asked if he knew which way Williams went. He pointed towards the end of the street, where Jim had last seen him. They were about halfway there when Williams appeared again. He was jogging their way. He noticed them before he got close and turned and gestured back the way he came.
“I think you should see this Captain.”
Williams led them to an abandoned house just off the main street they were following yesterday. Most of the windows were smashed and very few of them were boarded up. The front door was ripped off its hinges and lay a few feet down the road, scratches and gouges covering most of the side they could see. Jim didn’t know why he hadn’t noticed it the day before. Although it wasn’t the only house to appear as if the residents had been attacked, it was definitely the worse looking one.
Williams didn’t stop outside though; he carried on going, not really giving the mess a second look. Getting inside was relatively easy, as it had no door, but when inside, the upturned furniture made it a bit unstable to manoeuvre around. A, no longer plush looking, sofa was pushed close to the door, meaning you had to climb over it to actually get in the house. Again, Williams didn’t bat an eye, he just clambered over and continued into what Jim guessed was a kitchen.
As Jim took his turn over the sofa, his eyes were drawn to the walls. There had obviously been a family living here as the walls were decorated in photos. Over time dust had settled and dimmed the frames and faces, but the amount of them proved that it was a loving family. He had to forcefully tear his eyes away in the end, as it reminded him of all the things that were wrong with this planet.
It turned out Jim had been right about it being a kitchen. Though, what he had expected to see was counters, cupboards and maybe a table and some chairs, but what he actually saw was something of a crime scene.
There were indeed all of the things most kitchens had in them, but also some things that you wouldn’t normally see. Such as the large darkened sticky puddle underneath the shattered window. Shards of glass had fallen into the puddle and had been stained a dark red, almost black colour.
A bundle of quilts had also been stashed in the corner of the room; one was laid out like it was a bed for a dog, and still had imprints in it as though something had only just left it. The ends, of the one laid out, disappeared into the dark tiled floor, almost making it invisible. It was coated in whatever was pooling on the kitchen floor. The copper coloured material reminded Jim of his childhood. He remembered the time one of their work dogs had gotten pregnant and given birth in their living room. His mom hadn’t let him watch as he was around six at the time, but he remembered the aftermath. His eyes had spotted the bloodied bed she had laid on. Though he quickly spotted the puppies shortly after, and to a six year old nothing else mattered. Something told him that this wasn’t a dog though, there was too much blood.
Jim stepped further into the kitchen. On closer inspection, he realised he could make out handprints in the puddle. They moved outwards towards the window, smearing a trail of fingers as it went. There were a few splatters dotting the walls near the puddle as well, and a clear handprint on the left side on the window where the glass had been crushed and removed, mostly likely, by the person’s palm.
The air in the kitchen didn’t seem like it was over oxygenated. It was stuffy and bitter, Jim was finding it hard to get a satisfying lungful. He breathed deeply turning away from the kitchen, only to end up facing the living room again. The photos were the first thing he saw. A chill ran up his spine and caused him to shiver. The deep breathing had also left him feeling a bit dizzy.
Jim stumbled out of the house, struggling with the sofa at first, but eventually managing to land unsteadily on his feet outside in the streets. The entire time he tried to keep from looking at the photos or back at the kitchen. Spock quickly appeared at his elbow, a Vulcan version of concern of his face.
“Are you okay Captain?”
Jim was leaning forward with his hands on his thighs, attempting to keep his breaths slow and shallow.
“I’m fine. Just a bit light-headed.” He stood up straighter, waving his hand weakly in Spock’s direction, meaning to imply he didn’t need to worry, though the gesture itself seemed to contradict the meaning. “I should work on that ‘no breathing’ thing.” He added as an afterthought, and chuckled.
“I’m afraid I don’t see the humour, Captain. If you stopped breathing you would die.”
McCrae and Williams joined them at this point, giving both Jim and Spock a puzzled look.
“Remind me never to joke around you, Spock.”
---
After the house, they didn’t bother to explore any of the side streets leading to the more rural areas of the city. They instead kept to the main street. Before they reached the paper covered area, they turned right at one of the many empty intersections, choosing a different path than the one they travelled last time. The scenery wasn’t much different, they still passed empty office buildings, fuel dry cars and scattered belongings.
Every time they happened on a coat or jacket, McCrae would stop and fish in the pockets, hoping to find anything that would help shed some light on what was happening. Every time, his search left him holding nothing but useless scraps of paper, old earth-like currency and pocket lint. Nothing that was any help.
They walked for another hour; slowly the buildings began getting less dense and grass had surfaced again in forms of parks and gardens. The landing party eventually reached a large area where all the main streets seemed to converge and a public park was placed in the middle. The grass was over grown and the branches of the trees were dipping over railings and starting to shade the roads. With no one around to tame them, they were slowly taking over the grey parts of the city.
They followed the park until it led them to the street opposite the way they had come in. Across the road was a building so big and white that Jim was surprised they hadn’t noticed it before. The large sign outside read ‘Levicity Hospital’ in bold red lettering, and underneath that was a giant red cross, just in case you hadn’t notice the words. Unlike the rest of the drab, boring looking city, the hospital was very bright and new. Although, it still looked a little run down in places, it was obviously the building that had survived the best.
Jim set off towards the emergency room entrance. Most of the glass doors were broken anyway, so it wouldn’t be a challenge to get inside. Spock, McCrae and Williams followed wordlessly, the glass crunching under their boots. When inside, Jim and Spock went one way, keeping nearer the exits, while McCrae and Williams went the other way, following the hallways deeper into the hospital. Jim ordered then to stay together and to contact him if they found anything.
The emergency room, Jim and Spock was looking around, was completely empty. Everything was relatively undisturbed, the beds were left made and the floors were clean and white. There was a station near the door which was clear of any clutter and only held a very old computer that wouldn’t work without electricity. Strangely, a strong antiseptic smell still hung about in the room, despite it being deserted for an indefinite amount of time. It was familiar. It felt safe. Jim allowed himself to relax for the first time since he beamed down onto the planet.
Before he really realised what he was doing, Jim was reaching for the communicator on his belt. He stopped in front of a tray on a cart. With one hand he rolled an old equivalent of a hypospray along his fingers, while his other hand flipped open the communicator.
“Kirk to sickbay.”
If Spock was confused, he didn’t show it. Jim could see him out of the corner of his eye as he faced the cart; he was standing with his hands clasped behind his back and a passive look on his face. He may have been trying to look uninterested, but Jim was certain he was watching him and listening to what he was saying.
---
McCoy was busy pulling the see-through, skin tight gloves off of his hands when the intercom on the wall began beeping. One of them was stuck on his fingertips and wouldn’t come off no matter how much he tugged, so he was struggling to press the button in time to speak.
Nurse Chapel shuffled her feet in the background, wondering whether she should help or not. McCoy sent her a smile and a shake of his head, telling her he was fine. She continued to look unconvinced when McCoy tried to hold the button down with his elbow, while still trying to free his hand.
“This is McCoy.”
McCoy was sure his elbow had slipped at least once while he had answered, and he hoped Jim had still been able to understand him.
“Are you okay Bones? You sound a bit weird. You’re not busy are you?”
Over the intercom, McCoy could hear Jim moving about. He heard something clatter like he had just placed something metal onto a counter.
“I’m fine, and no I’m not busy - come on you little fucker. Let go.”
McCoy was only really half paying attention to the conversation, at the moment. He was a little distracted by the glove to care. He hadn’t realised that Jim could hear him talking to them, while he held the button down with his elbow at an awkward angle.
“Excuse me?”
He could hear the laughter behind Jim’s voice, and it annoyed him. His brow furrowed in frustration, and he tried once again to pull his hand free from the glove’s grasp. It almost worked. One of the fingers stretched taught and snapped away from his skin causing him to yelp slightly. It wasn’t just Jim who laughed out loud at him; McCoy turned his head to see Chapel giggling into the back of her hand. McCoy would never admit it, but he actually growled at her.
“Don’t you have work to be doing?”
Chapel just smiled and disappeared into another part of the sickbay. She even had the fore-thought not to mention that he had just pointed out that they were not busy, and there wasn’t actually anything that needed to be done. She instead left silently, having learnt early on not to be offended by McCoy harsh sounding tones.
“What’s going on Bones? Am I interrupting something? Was that Nurse Chapel I heard giggling in the background?”
Jim’s voice took on a teasing tone that didn’t help McCoy’s frustration with him. Now that the glove was partially off, the rest was relatively easy to remove. It peeled away without much force and McCoy tossed it towards the nearest medical bin, all the while fighting the complaints of ‘why couldn’t it have just done that earlier?’
“Is that all you think about?”
“Well, it’s kind of hard not to when it’s just being thrusted at me all the while.”
“Ok. I am definitely not thrusting anything at you. Let’s make that clear right now.”
“Oh Bones, you tease.”
The tease in question rubbed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, trying desperately to quell the headache that was beginning to form. It didn’t seem to be helping though, so he tried a different tactic. Changing the subject.
“Was there a reason why you contacted sickbay? Or did you just feel that, all too familiar, urge creeping up telling you it was time to annoy me?”
“No, there was nothing in particular. I just saw something that reminded me of you and thought I should give you a call. I mean, how long has it been? Five, six hours now?”
“Damn it, Jim. I have more important things to be doing that don’t involve us prattling on like two teenage girls.”
A silence lulled between them. McCoy still held the intercom button down, though now with his hand and not his elbow. For a moment he thought that maybe Jim had gone. Like he had finally taken something he had said seriously. Though, he swiftly branded himself an idiot when Jim began talking again, completely ignoring McCoy outburst. Seriously, what was he thinking?
“You’d like it down here Bones. You should see this hospital. It’s like your dream come true.” McCoy heard the sounds of draws being opened and rummaged through in the background of Jim’s slightly wistful words. “It would just be you and the entire hospital to run. There would be no ensigns tripping over their own tongues and feet.”
“It sounds like a veritable paradise. Though, I don’t think it would right without you constantly walking through the doors, complaining about another broken nose.” McCoy sighed, bringing his head up from his hand. “By the way, how did it go with the trees? I was expecting you back five minutes after you left.”
Jim’s voice picked up again, returning to its usual jest. Despite the inane subject, Jim always managed to speak about with such passion that subject often didn’t matter.
“You should have seen it. They were like putty in my hands.”
Both of them laughed at the way their conversation had derailed slightly. McCoy’s hand was starting to ache a bit from holding the button down; these things weren’t really designed for long conversations.
“I take it things are pretty slow down there.”
Jim paused for a moment like he was carefully choosing how best to word it. This wasn’t something Jim normally did, so McCoy took that as a sign as to how bad the problem was.
“Yeah, things are pretty slow, I guess.” Jim never was overly eloquent though. “I don’t know what it is about this place, but…”
McCoy waited at least ten seconds for Jim to finish his sentence, believing he was just pausing for the effect. It wasn’t until then that he realised that something had interrupted him.
“Jim? What going on?”
Instead of hearing Jim answering, McCoy was met with a scream.
It wasn’t particularly loud, so it couldn’t have come from Jim himself, but it was a very guttural noise. Whoever was making it was in serious pain. McCoy tried getting Jim’s attention to find out what was happening, but he seemed to be distracted and reluctant to respond. Standing in the sickbay on the Enterprise, McCoy could hear the pounding footstep made by someone close to the communicator on Jim’s end. The footsteps stayed constant, but the screaming was slowly getting louder and more frantic. It was a man’s voice, so McCoy gathered that it was one of the landing party.
There was a loud bang, like a door slamming open so fast that it hit the wall and bounced. Many voices then spoke over the other. Some shouting; some whispering; some staying completely unchanged. The screaming was the loudest of them all. Earlier it had sounded far away and unreal. It was dry and raspy. Hoarse and painful, ripping its way out of the man’s throat. Now, it was closer, louder and harder to doubt. It sounded wet, as if the person was trying to gargle at the same time. Screams bubbled and hiccupped out of the man’s throat now.
He was so caught up in the screaming, that it took a while for McCoy to notice Jim was talking. Though, in reality, it was more than talking, it was shouting. McCoy actually flinched on the spot when the harsh noise of Jim’s voice caught him off guard.
“Bones get down here now! Something attacked Williams. It looks like it tried to rip his throat out. He’s bleeding too much!”
McCoy was already half way out of the door, before Jim had finished.