background story - A Call in the Night (Kirk/McCoy)
Some background for Jim and Leonard, based in part on this prompt from the kink_meme, written by kirktastic and dctr_mccoy.
The communicator had been buzzing and flashing for several minutes now, trying to rouse its owner. One blurry eye opened, the flashing red light catching his attention. Fuck, he thought. He wasn't on call this weekend. "Yeah," he voiced groggily, as his hand found the right button to answer the call.
"Leonard McCoy?" A polite female voice asked from the other end of the line.
"Speaking," he gruffed, looking down at the chromometer on his data pad, blinking '0215'. Fuck...
"Sorry to disturb you at this time of night. This is University of California San Francisco Medical Center. We have your cousin James Kirk here. We need you to provide information and come fill out some forms." She informed him smartly.
What the fuck... "I'm sorry, what did you say?" Leonard sat up, flicking the light by his night table on. "Did you say my cousin?" Going through his head he tried to think of anyone who might be here in the city - Robert was working on the moon, and he hadn't seen Laura since he was ten.
"Yes, sir. Your cousin, James Kirk?" Now she sounded slightly confused. "You're listed here as his emergency contact."
"Kirk." The name resonated with him, it was familiar but from where? "Okay, where are you calling from again?" he asked, listening as she wearily repeated all her information. "I'll be there as soon as I can."
It took him 20 minutes to get from his dorm room across campus, to where he could find a cab to make the trip south to wherever the hell this James Kirk was. He walked into the Emergency Room, leaned on the desk and repeated the information he'd been given. A smile crossed the triage nurse's face as she pointed down the hall. "Third curtain on the right," she said. "He's quite a charmer, too."
This night was getting weirder, he thought to himself as he stomped down the hall, ignoring the faces of the nurses and other patients as he pushed the curtain aside to see this family of his. Laying back on the bed, body tucked under several osteoregenerators along his face, right hand, and left ribs, was a good looking young man (if it wasn't for the blood dried under his nose and the regenerator humming away repairing what looked like a broken nose and cheek bone). He was currently chatting up an even younger looking blonde nurse who was grinning down at him, stroking over the back of his uninjured hand.
"...then the big guy, the ugly fucker, came swinging in. Ducked under it, but his buddy got a cheap shot to my ribs." The young man, presumably James Kirk, was rambling on in a thick, strained voice that was being affected by the broken nose. Bright blue eyes were riveted on the nurse's... well, somewhere between breasts and face, at least.
Leonard looked at the scene before him incredulously. About ten seconds past before he recognized the face of the person chatting up the nursing staff. The kid from the shuttle, the one who sat next to him on the way to San Francisco. James Kirk.
"Where is his chart?" he asked in his most threatening doctor voice. "I'm Dr McCoy, from the Academy, and I'm here to see this patient." He looked up momentarily to see the kid looking over at him, sizing him up, as if trying to decide how to best approach this new variable in the room.
The young nurse straightened, picked up the chart, and handing it to Leonard, tossed one more glance toward the patient. "If you need anything, Doctor," she said to him before leaving the curtained area, closing the curtain behind him.
Leonard was silent as he reviewed the chart. Broken 1st and 2nd metacarpels, fractured 4th and 5th ribs, fractured cheekbone. Mild concussion and lacerated skull. (With a small note 'Removed glass from laceration. Broken liquor bottle.')
These damned kids, he thought to himself. It wasn't enough that he spent all day patching up their sorry asses after their hand-to-hand combat training or overdoing it during physical training. Now he had to give up his free time for one of them. "You have a good time tonight, kid?" he asked, his face frowning as he got to the blood alcohol level. He'd been drinking, but certainly wasn't drunk.
Kirk tilted his head, eying the doctor from top to bottom before the biggest, bullshit grin spread over his lips. "Hey, doc." Without a single tone of recognition in his voice. "You think that was fun, you should see the other guys."
Leonard slowly looked up as the kid spoke. His fingers turned the pages of the chart, looking for the admitting information. Sure enough, the information communicated from the Academy listed one Leonard McCoy, also at Starfleet Academy as next of kin. What the hell was that about?, he wondered, deciding to wait a few minutes before finding out. "All right," he walked slowly over to James Kirk. "First off, let me see your hand."
"Long as you don't make me wiggle my fingers," Kirk muttered and offered out the broken hand. The one knuckle was misaligned and the skin over the first and second knuckles were split open and raw.
Shaking his head, Leonard muttered, "Didn't even finish in here with you, did they?" He looked over, grabbing a dermal regenerator, and began sealing and disinfecting each cut on his hand. "You're the kid from the shuttle ride, from Iowa," he said, not quite a question.
Kirk tilted his head with that, studying Leonard in a new light. Then very slow the grin returned, "Fuck, you're the crazy eyebrow drunk!" He laughed, but it dissolved into a wince as the pain of his face probably hit him as hard as the fist that had fractured it had.
A fresh wave of bitter washed over Leonard as he realized that this kid hadn't even remembered him. "Crazy eyebrow drunk," he repeated, almost chuckling at that. "Yeah, that sounds about right. Okay, lift the sheet up there," he told him, pushing the hospital garment aside to examine the ribs being healed. He turned off the osteoregenerators, gently palpitating the still-bruised skin. They felt intact, that was good. "That still hurt?"
Well, the indrawn hiss of breath probably was a clue. "Nrrr... yea, when you start touchin' them." Kirk grumbled out through gritted teeth, cracking an eye open to look up at the doctor. "Forgot you were a doc." He stared at something else for a moment - the 3D images of his hand and ribs and face that showed the location, size, and depth of the breaks and fractures.
"The bruising has to go down the old-fashioned way," Leonard told him. "But the fractures are gone now."
Leonard gave the kid in the bed another long look, not saying anything for a long time. Finally, he flipped the medical chart to the page with his name, tossing it on the bed where Kirk could reach it. "What's this all about?" he asked, pointing at his name.
With his good hand, Kirk reached out and grabbed the chart. He studied the words there, frowning at it, before looking up and saying honestly, "Don't remember doing it." He admitted. Either from the concussion, the alcohol, or the two months since they had met in that shuttle had erased the memory.
"Hmmm," Leonard said, "you remember your name?" He seemed satisfied when the kid repeated his name, the date, where he was, and other bits of information about his life. Ruled out severe concussion. "Out of curiosity," he asked, putting the chart to the side and allowing the machines to finish working on the patient's face, "what happened to you tonight?"
Those blue eyes closed as Kirk thought about it, then grinned a little, "Feels like I got the shit kicked outta me, doc." He flexed his fingers slightly and groaned at a flare of pain. "Mm, definitely what happened."
If he recalled right, Leonard thought, he looked similarly injured that morning they'd sat next to each other for that short ride. "Happen to you often?" he asked, slight sarcastic tone to his voice. "Getting the shit kicked out of you, I mean?"
That brought out a bark of laughter from the younger male and a wicked grin, "Only when I feel like losing." He looked down at his hand, frowning, "Gonna save the hand, doc?"
Another frown. "Lemme see that again," Leonard said, taking the injured hand in his. Watching the other man's face as he carefully pressed the small bones, he narrowed his eyes as the caught a wince of pain. "We'd better spend some more time on this one. It shouldn't still hurt that bad," he added, reapplying the osteoregenerator.
The curtain opened, and the Emergency Room physician entered the room. Leonard introduced himself, said he was the patient's physician and had been called in to treat him tonight, if that was okay. The overworked ER doctor, an amused look on his face, briefly reviewed the chart, his face showing what Leonard's probably had - another hick Academy student caught up in a bar fight. Giving Kirk a brief exam, shining a light in his eyes and looking at the regenerator readings, he nodded. "He's all yours," the doctor told him, signing the chart. "Just make sure he checks out before he leaves."
Leonard sat back down, eyes returning to the kid. For all his bravado, there was something else there in his face... a weariness that came from more than just being tired. "So tell me, cousin of mine, who are you?"
"S'that a trick question?" Kirk asked, giving the doctor in front of him a strange look. "James T. Kirk. Didn't you ask me this shit already. ...Cousin?" He looked confused, eyes going hazy for a moment. "...Oh, shit." There was the dawning light in his eyes of someone whose light bulb had just been turned on. He lifted his other hand and rubbed at his eye for a moment, grunting. "Wrote that shit out on the... fuck. Sorry they bothered ya, doc."
"Wrote it out on what?" Leonard asked, curious. The kid looked genuinely embarrassed now.
"Um, when we finally got to the Academy and had to fill out all that crap? Didn't have a contact, so I just copied the info off your papers." There was no real guilt in Kirk's voice, just a certain tone of uncaring mixed with exhaustion. His eyes were starting to close as if he wanted to fall asleep - the last thing someone with a concussion needed to do.
"Hey, hey there," Leonard said, watching as those eyes began to drift off. "No sleeping, not right now." One more cursory look over the rest of the injuries - the fractures were all healed now, the swelling would remain but the kid could rest at his place, would at least be more comfortable than here. "Come on, sunshine, let's get out of here. But listen to me," he said, arching an eyebrow and giving Kirk his best 'don't fuck with me' look - "you need to stay awake for at least another couple hours, okay?" Kirk muttered something about obeying the crazy eyebrow.
In another moment all the equipment was off Kirk and back on the medical cart. "Got a roommate or someone who can come get you?" Leonard asked, knowing in his gut that he was going to cart this kid back to his dormitory himself. "Maybe bring you a shirt?" he added, seeing the kid's torn clothing in a pile on the floor.
"Don't know anyone." Kirk was already trying to get out of bed, and the movement showed that the bruising covered more of his body then first expected. "No room, so no roommate." He sat up, making a few weird places as bruises and muscles pulled. He looked up, their eyes meeting, and grinned, "Thanks for getting me outta here."
Goddammit... "What do you mean, no room?" Leonard asked incredulously. "You're an Academy cadet, aren't you? Where are you living?"
"Yea, I am," Kirk confirmed, "but that doesn't guarantee me a room. Been living anywhere I can get a night's sleep." He pointed over to a beat up looking backpack tucked away in the corner of the room. "Let me just get my stuff and I'll be out of your hair, cousin."
"I don't fuckin' think so," Leonard told him. "You're still recuperating from a mild concussion, not to mention that in the morning you are going to hurt like hell, once all the meds they generously pumped into you start wearing off." He walked over to the corner, grabbed the bag and tossed it at Kirk. "Got another shirt in there?" he asked, wondering if he was going to have to lend the kid his jacket too.
It was a poor grab for the bag, proof the kid was still messed up, but he did catch it. "Yea, yea." He dug into the bag and pulled out a ratty sort of tee shirt (briefly exposing the edge of a cadet uniform). He flexed his fingers a few times, as little as they could flex in their swollen state, and pulled it on clumsily. "Maybe you could convince them to give me a second dose of those meds." Kirk flashed a grin towards Leonard. The shirt he was now wearing had definitely seen better days, and the emblem on it for some bar was faded nearly to the point of obscurity.
Leonard wondered how often that grin worked for other people; it did nothing for him. "I can do you one better," he said, watching as Kirk struggled to get into that threadbare shirt. "I got an extra bed you can crash on tonight," he offered. "If you're still there in the morning, and haven't robbed me blind, I'll give you some more pain meds."
What possessed him to make this deal, he had no idea, but the words were out of his mouth before he had any chance to reconsider. Kirk was obviously thinking about it for several moments, then he rolled his shoulder in a shrug. "Can't say I'm not grateful for the offer." Those eyes settled on Leonard again, very focused this time, "I'll do what I can to repay ya." A smaller smile this time instead of that bullshit grin.
Jesus... "Thanks, but no thanks, kid," Leonard replied, opening the curtain so they could leave, making their way down the long hallway to the hospital's exit. The air was chilly outside, the fog having rolled in the early morning hours - too chilly for a thin t-shirt. Shrugging off his jacket, he handed it to Kirk, taking the bag in his hands so the younger man could slip it on. Kirk held it in his hands for a long moment, almost looking like he would give it back in a fit of pride, but finally shrugged into it with only a bit-off sound of pain. He waited in silence beside Leonard as they waited for a cab to be patrolling by the hospital at this pitiful time in the morning, and kept up that silence as they they caught a cab and made it back to Leonard's dorm room as the early risers were starting to make their way across campus. Fuck, Leonard thought to himself, opening the door and letting Kirk inside. At least he didn't have anywhere to be today.
The room was stark, devoid of most of the things one would see in a younger cadet's dorm room, but Leonard McCoy wasn't a younger cadet. The bed wasn't made because of the suddenness of his departure earlier that evening (or early morning, depending on how you looked at it) but that was the only thing out of place. His desk was tidy, with a data pad and lamp. The only personal effects were on his bookshelf, which held a few old-fashioned books and a small picture frame.
But the rest of the room was spotless - in fact, one side of the room completely empty. Kirk did not hesitate for a second to walk over to that empty bed and sit down on it, watching Leonard with a nearly unsure gaze from under long lashes. In a borrowed jacket and ragged t-shirt beneath, bruised and swollen, dirty... he looked like a back-alley cur. Something that looked pathetic when begging for scraps, but something you would be very wary of cornering.
Leonard walked into the bathroom, came out with a towel. "Here, if you want to go to shower, go ahead. You'll feel better, and," he hesitated, "it's probably a good idea for you to stay awake just a bit longer. You feel dizzy or any light-headedness?" The more he kept the conversation on Kirk's injuries, the more confident he felt with this strange situation he'd gotten himself into with the younger man, who despite his youth somehow made Leonard feel like he was no longer in control. "You hungry?"
"Fuckin' starving." Kirk licked his lips as he took the towel, stepping close to Leonard. He glanced over the doctor appraisingly, then smirked a little, "A bit, but hard to tell if its from the bottle over my head, the alcohol, or the company." He grinned before he turned, moving over to the shared bathroom with the air of someone used to being in the dorms.
Leonard refused to back up as the kid approached him, feeling like hunted prey at that look in Kirk's eyes. The kid knew what he had and wielded that like a knife. Closing his eyes after Kirk moved into the bathroom, he took a deep breath and headed toward the small kitchen area. He threw together several sandwiches, eating one himself before heading back to his bed, resting on top of the covers. He didn't want to fall asleep, no, not until the kid was out, and had eaten something, but before he knew it, his eyes closed and he'd drifted off.
It would be an interesting way to wake up for Leonard.
Something warm was nuzzling up under his neck, something smoothing under his shirt and rubbing across his chest. The something warm under his neck slowly moved up under his ear, then oh wet at the ear lobe. Teeth dragged there, nipping, almost painful, then releasing. "Mmm..."
His eyes snapped open. The kid was next to him, wet and naked except for a towel, hot mouth on him, his hands sliding along his body, picking at the zipper of his jeans. "What? Wait- no," he groaned, sitting up fast. "No, don't..." His hand caught Kirk's, capturing it, keeping it from moving any further toward his rapidly hardening cock. "You don't have to do that," he whispered hoarsely.
Those blue eyes were staring at him, obviously looking a little confused, trying to read if Leonard was being serious. Then, the kid grinned. "Don't have to? What if I want to?" Did he just waggle his eyebrows? Sure did. "Good looking guy, offering me a place for the night and even taking care of me? Can't pass that up."
"Sorry, not my type," he replied, pushing the hand off him. Sex, no strings attached, fast and hard sex with someone he'd never see again sounded really, really good right now, especially when it was practically throwing himself at him. But the last thing he needed right now was a tumble with some wash-out cadet, still fucking injured from the night before. Probably got an STD or three, he thought to himself. Not this one, McCoy.
Leonard swung around, his legs hitting the ground. Kirk was still on his bed, laying there in a goddamned towel, on his bed, looking up at him with the bluest eyes Leonard had ever seen. He bent closer to his face, lifting his chin so that his could see those eyes better. One last check...
He looked down at the chronometer, mentally calculated how long it had been since his injures. "You can sleep now," he told Kirk. "But I'll be waking you up in four hours to make sure you're okay."
Kirk was giving him the strangest look. Finally, he pointed right at Leonard's crotch, "...dude, you're hard. Least let me take care of it. If you're straight, just think of me as a chick and close your eyes." That same wide grin, completely lacking any morals about this.
Yes, ridiculously hard now. Fantastic. "Thanks, Captain Obvious, I noticed," he grumbled, standing and going to his chest of drawer, pulling out a pair of jogging pants. "Put these on, and go get in your bed already." His voice wasn't as harsh as his words, but they still were loud and clear. No.
The pants were caught, and Leonard was still getting a strange, and growing stranger, look from Kirk. He let the towel fall, then pulled on the pants. "...Seriously, what are you looking to get out of this, doc?" Kirk finally asked after a long silence, sitting back on the empty bed.
Leonard walked into the bathroom, came out with a glass of water and some pills. "These'll take a bit longer than a hypospray, but I don't have any aerosol pain meds with me right now." He handed them to the other man, then walked back to his bed. Kirk was quick to take them, a telling sign that he was probably feeling the effects of the hospital's meds wearing off. Sitting down on it, he thought about the last time he'd seen this kid in front of him. The day he'd gotten on that shuttle, not nearly drunk enough, mad as hell, depressed, barely sane, and heading for fucking Starfleet Academy.
Kirk had talked to him for the forty-minute shuttle ride, small talk mostly, but it got his mind off the typically incapacitating fear he usually associated with flying. Leonard wasn't sure if the kid had realized the extend of his phobia, but before Leonard knew it, they landed, filled out some forms, shook hands, and went their separate ways.
Until tonight.
"Payback is hell, kid," Leonard told him, laying down on his own bed. Another glance at the nightstand - 0615. FUCK... "Look, we'll sleep til noon, then go grab some lunch - how does that sound?" he asked, yawning as he wrapped his arms around his pillow.
"...and you're just going to bed hard?" Kirk muttered, but in a very cautious tone said, "Alright. Lunch, yea." He glanced to the chronometer, then slowly slipped himself into the empty bed. A soft sigh echoed in the room, "Night then, doc."
Silence, then quietly, "...thanks."
Several hours passed. The soft chime went off at 1230, Leonard rolling over and batting at it with his hand to turn it off. It was too bright, and for a moment he thought he'd overslept until he remembered the previous night's adventures. James Kirk. Damned kid, writing his name down. Thinking about it now, it seemed sort of funny, to just pick some random stranger and make them your cousin. But that meant he hadn't anyone else to write down, or didn't want to write down anyone he actually knew. Homeless, he remembered too. That wasn't good. Well, if he wasn't an complete idiot, Leonard thought to himself, maybe he could crash on his extra bed, at least until the Academy assigned him a roommate who didn't mind living with an older-than-average grumpy neat-freak.
"All right, time to get up," he called out, turning around in his bed to look at Kirk.
Kirk's empty bed.
Leonard sat up, scratching his face as he stared a minute or two. The bed was made up, as neat as he'd found it. His bag was gone too, along with any evidence that he'd been there. Leonard shook his head, not really surprised, but... disappointed? Was that the feeling? He'd almost looked forward to hearing the story of the bar fight, or what Kirk was studying, or what he'd been up to in the month and a half since they'd arrived in San Fransisco.
Well, it was over, his night's adventure. Sad, the most exciting thing that had happened to him since arriving at Starfleet Academy - hell, since his divorce - was patching up a half-beaten farm boy and turning down his offer for sex. Slightly regretting that now that the kid was gone, Leonard headed to the shower, trying to wake up and decide what he was going to do today.
When Leonard returned, James Kirk was back. There was a meal spread out on the small table in the room - eggs, steak, home fries, and coffee from the look of it. The young man was leaning back in a chair that looked ready to tip over, one of Leonard's books in hand. He glanced up when he heard the door from the bathroom open and grinned a little. "Hope you don't mind I swiped your key card so I could get back in."
"You... what?" Leonard said, wrapping his towel around his waist more tightly. "Is that - my shirt?" he asked, stumbling over to the table, looking down at it. The appropriately stern look on his face was fading at the sight of that delicious food. "Kirk- James, where did you get this?"
"Sorry, I needed something to wear so they didn't question me going in and out." Kirk tugged at the blue material he wore, and when he looked up from it, it was obvious how much it brought out his eyes. Or something like that. "From a diner nearby. Come on, it's gonna get cold if you don't eat."
Leonard walked over to his drawers and pulled out some jeans and an old shirt. He headed back to the bathroom and changed quickly, muttering something about the 'ingratitude of kids these days' and 'fucking Iowa farmboys'. But when he sat down across from lunch companion, he simply said, "Thanks," and began eating. "God," he closed his eyes. "This is really good." One eyebrow went up as he took a bite of the steak. "Where did you get this?" he asked cautiously.
If the kid was willing to blow him for a bed and some pain meds, what would he do for food? Really good food, and a lot of it.
"Told ya, diner nearby. Kinda where I've been eating since I got here." Kirk was digging into his own plate with relish, looking content in stuffing himself like a pig. He didn't sound at all upset or concerned or worried. Could have been discussing the weather.
Leonard understood what was happening - Kirk needed to pay him back somehow; no matter how he'd obtained this food, it was important that he take it, so he put a rare smile on his face and finished his plate, then had seconds.
"So," Leonard began, not sure where to go with his curiosity about Kirk. "So," he started again, "what happened last night?"
Kirk chewed on a piece of steak slowly, thinking about it. He rubbed the back of his neck with his free and said honestly, "Don't remember a lot of the night, really. Just remember it being over some girl. Something about her then this big, ugly fucking guy... and a bunch of his friends showed up out of no where and got me."
That was easy enough. "You trying to nose in on someone's girl?" he asked, before adding, "You still don't remember some of the events of last night?" Maybe there was more to the head injury than he previously thought.
Kirk shook his head a little, "Not nose in. Guy dropped a drug in her drink and was trying to pull her out of the bar." He shrugged a little, poking at the food on his plate.
Leonard shook his head. "You okay?" he asked, worried about the sudden lack of appetite. He leaned in to look closer at the kid. "Something feel off?"
"Nah, just hoping she made it outta there." Kirk shrugged again and popped the remainders of the egg into his mouth. "Thanks for everything last night. I should get going... got a two o'clock class." He scrubbed a hand over his still swollen face, standing up.
"Okay," replied Leonard, pushing back from the table. "I guess it was nice meeting you, em, James?" he said, extending one of his hands, looking a bit confused at the sudden departure, but class was class...
"Jim." Kirk said with a tiny smirk. He looked at the hand offered to him, then reached out and clasped his own to Leonard's and shook it firmly. "Thanks."
"Leonard," he replied, shaking the hand. He watched as the kid - Jim - headed for the door, bag tossed over his shoulder. "Look, Jim," he started, "I don't have a roommate, at least not right now." He looked over at the empty side of the room. "If you ever need a place to crash..."
Kirk turned, looking over his shoulder at Leonard for several long moments. Then, expression and voice confused, "...what are you looking for from me?"
Leonard straightened, a bit defensive. "I'm not looking for anything, kid. Just trying to be nice to someone who helped me out once." He shrugged, as if it didn't mean much to him. "You take care, alright?"
"...Didn't think people like you existed anymore. Genuinely nice guys." Kirk smirked, just a tiny bit, "...I'll take care of myself. S'what I always do." He did a mock salute with two fingers, "I'll be taking you up on that offer sometime." And left with that, heading down the hallway, to who knew where.
The communicator had been buzzing and flashing for several minutes now, trying to rouse its owner. One blurry eye opened, the flashing red light catching his attention. Fuck, he thought. He wasn't on call this weekend. "Yeah," he voiced groggily, as his hand found the right button to answer the call.
"Leonard McCoy?" A polite female voice asked from the other end of the line.
"Speaking," he gruffed, looking down at the chromometer on his data pad, blinking '0215'. Fuck...
"Sorry to disturb you at this time of night. This is University of California San Francisco Medical Center. We have your cousin James Kirk here. We need you to provide information and come fill out some forms." She informed him smartly.
What the fuck... "I'm sorry, what did you say?" Leonard sat up, flicking the light by his night table on. "Did you say my cousin?" Going through his head he tried to think of anyone who might be here in the city - Robert was working on the moon, and he hadn't seen Laura since he was ten.
"Yes, sir. Your cousin, James Kirk?" Now she sounded slightly confused. "You're listed here as his emergency contact."
"Kirk." The name resonated with him, it was familiar but from where? "Okay, where are you calling from again?" he asked, listening as she wearily repeated all her information. "I'll be there as soon as I can."
It took him 20 minutes to get from his dorm room across campus, to where he could find a cab to make the trip south to wherever the hell this James Kirk was. He walked into the Emergency Room, leaned on the desk and repeated the information he'd been given. A smile crossed the triage nurse's face as she pointed down the hall. "Third curtain on the right," she said. "He's quite a charmer, too."
This night was getting weirder, he thought to himself as he stomped down the hall, ignoring the faces of the nurses and other patients as he pushed the curtain aside to see this family of his. Laying back on the bed, body tucked under several osteoregenerators along his face, right hand, and left ribs, was a good looking young man (if it wasn't for the blood dried under his nose and the regenerator humming away repairing what looked like a broken nose and cheek bone). He was currently chatting up an even younger looking blonde nurse who was grinning down at him, stroking over the back of his uninjured hand.
"...then the big guy, the ugly fucker, came swinging in. Ducked under it, but his buddy got a cheap shot to my ribs." The young man, presumably James Kirk, was rambling on in a thick, strained voice that was being affected by the broken nose. Bright blue eyes were riveted on the nurse's... well, somewhere between breasts and face, at least.
Leonard looked at the scene before him incredulously. About ten seconds past before he recognized the face of the person chatting up the nursing staff. The kid from the shuttle, the one who sat next to him on the way to San Francisco. James Kirk.
"Where is his chart?" he asked in his most threatening doctor voice. "I'm Dr McCoy, from the Academy, and I'm here to see this patient." He looked up momentarily to see the kid looking over at him, sizing him up, as if trying to decide how to best approach this new variable in the room.
The young nurse straightened, picked up the chart, and handing it to Leonard, tossed one more glance toward the patient. "If you need anything, Doctor," she said to him before leaving the curtained area, closing the curtain behind him.
Leonard was silent as he reviewed the chart. Broken 1st and 2nd metacarpels, fractured 4th and 5th ribs, fractured cheekbone. Mild concussion and lacerated skull. (With a small note 'Removed glass from laceration. Broken liquor bottle.')
These damned kids, he thought to himself. It wasn't enough that he spent all day patching up their sorry asses after their hand-to-hand combat training or overdoing it during physical training. Now he had to give up his free time for one of them. "You have a good time tonight, kid?" he asked, his face frowning as he got to the blood alcohol level. He'd been drinking, but certainly wasn't drunk.
Kirk tilted his head, eying the doctor from top to bottom before the biggest, bullshit grin spread over his lips. "Hey, doc." Without a single tone of recognition in his voice. "You think that was fun, you should see the other guys."
Leonard slowly looked up as the kid spoke. His fingers turned the pages of the chart, looking for the admitting information. Sure enough, the information communicated from the Academy listed one Leonard McCoy, also at Starfleet Academy as next of kin. What the hell was that about?, he wondered, deciding to wait a few minutes before finding out. "All right," he walked slowly over to James Kirk. "First off, let me see your hand."
"Long as you don't make me wiggle my fingers," Kirk muttered and offered out the broken hand. The one knuckle was misaligned and the skin over the first and second knuckles were split open and raw.
Shaking his head, Leonard muttered, "Didn't even finish in here with you, did they?" He looked over, grabbing a dermal regenerator, and began sealing and disinfecting each cut on his hand. "You're the kid from the shuttle ride, from Iowa," he said, not quite a question.
Kirk tilted his head with that, studying Leonard in a new light. Then very slow the grin returned, "Fuck, you're the crazy eyebrow drunk!" He laughed, but it dissolved into a wince as the pain of his face probably hit him as hard as the fist that had fractured it had.
A fresh wave of bitter washed over Leonard as he realized that this kid hadn't even remembered him. "Crazy eyebrow drunk," he repeated, almost chuckling at that. "Yeah, that sounds about right. Okay, lift the sheet up there," he told him, pushing the hospital garment aside to examine the ribs being healed. He turned off the osteoregenerators, gently palpitating the still-bruised skin. They felt intact, that was good. "That still hurt?"
Well, the indrawn hiss of breath probably was a clue. "Nrrr... yea, when you start touchin' them." Kirk grumbled out through gritted teeth, cracking an eye open to look up at the doctor. "Forgot you were a doc." He stared at something else for a moment - the 3D images of his hand and ribs and face that showed the location, size, and depth of the breaks and fractures.
"The bruising has to go down the old-fashioned way," Leonard told him. "But the fractures are gone now."
Leonard gave the kid in the bed another long look, not saying anything for a long time. Finally, he flipped the medical chart to the page with his name, tossing it on the bed where Kirk could reach it. "What's this all about?" he asked, pointing at his name.
With his good hand, Kirk reached out and grabbed the chart. He studied the words there, frowning at it, before looking up and saying honestly, "Don't remember doing it." He admitted. Either from the concussion, the alcohol, or the two months since they had met in that shuttle had erased the memory.
"Hmmm," Leonard said, "you remember your name?" He seemed satisfied when the kid repeated his name, the date, where he was, and other bits of information about his life. Ruled out severe concussion. "Out of curiosity," he asked, putting the chart to the side and allowing the machines to finish working on the patient's face, "what happened to you tonight?"
Those blue eyes closed as Kirk thought about it, then grinned a little, "Feels like I got the shit kicked outta me, doc." He flexed his fingers slightly and groaned at a flare of pain. "Mm, definitely what happened."
If he recalled right, Leonard thought, he looked similarly injured that morning they'd sat next to each other for that short ride. "Happen to you often?" he asked, slight sarcastic tone to his voice. "Getting the shit kicked out of you, I mean?"
That brought out a bark of laughter from the younger male and a wicked grin, "Only when I feel like losing." He looked down at his hand, frowning, "Gonna save the hand, doc?"
Another frown. "Lemme see that again," Leonard said, taking the injured hand in his. Watching the other man's face as he carefully pressed the small bones, he narrowed his eyes as the caught a wince of pain. "We'd better spend some more time on this one. It shouldn't still hurt that bad," he added, reapplying the osteoregenerator.
The curtain opened, and the Emergency Room physician entered the room. Leonard introduced himself, said he was the patient's physician and had been called in to treat him tonight, if that was okay. The overworked ER doctor, an amused look on his face, briefly reviewed the chart, his face showing what Leonard's probably had - another hick Academy student caught up in a bar fight. Giving Kirk a brief exam, shining a light in his eyes and looking at the regenerator readings, he nodded. "He's all yours," the doctor told him, signing the chart. "Just make sure he checks out before he leaves."
Leonard sat back down, eyes returning to the kid. For all his bravado, there was something else there in his face... a weariness that came from more than just being tired. "So tell me, cousin of mine, who are you?"
"S'that a trick question?" Kirk asked, giving the doctor in front of him a strange look. "James T. Kirk. Didn't you ask me this shit already. ...Cousin?" He looked confused, eyes going hazy for a moment. "...Oh, shit." There was the dawning light in his eyes of someone whose light bulb had just been turned on. He lifted his other hand and rubbed at his eye for a moment, grunting. "Wrote that shit out on the... fuck. Sorry they bothered ya, doc."
"Wrote it out on what?" Leonard asked, curious. The kid looked genuinely embarrassed now.
"Um, when we finally got to the Academy and had to fill out all that crap? Didn't have a contact, so I just copied the info off your papers." There was no real guilt in Kirk's voice, just a certain tone of uncaring mixed with exhaustion. His eyes were starting to close as if he wanted to fall asleep - the last thing someone with a concussion needed to do.
"Hey, hey there," Leonard said, watching as those eyes began to drift off. "No sleeping, not right now." One more cursory look over the rest of the injuries - the fractures were all healed now, the swelling would remain but the kid could rest at his place, would at least be more comfortable than here. "Come on, sunshine, let's get out of here. But listen to me," he said, arching an eyebrow and giving Kirk his best 'don't fuck with me' look - "you need to stay awake for at least another couple hours, okay?" Kirk muttered something about obeying the crazy eyebrow.
In another moment all the equipment was off Kirk and back on the medical cart. "Got a roommate or someone who can come get you?" Leonard asked, knowing in his gut that he was going to cart this kid back to his dormitory himself. "Maybe bring you a shirt?" he added, seeing the kid's torn clothing in a pile on the floor.
"Don't know anyone." Kirk was already trying to get out of bed, and the movement showed that the bruising covered more of his body then first expected. "No room, so no roommate." He sat up, making a few weird places as bruises and muscles pulled. He looked up, their eyes meeting, and grinned, "Thanks for getting me outta here."
Goddammit... "What do you mean, no room?" Leonard asked incredulously. "You're an Academy cadet, aren't you? Where are you living?"
"Yea, I am," Kirk confirmed, "but that doesn't guarantee me a room. Been living anywhere I can get a night's sleep." He pointed over to a beat up looking backpack tucked away in the corner of the room. "Let me just get my stuff and I'll be out of your hair, cousin."
"I don't fuckin' think so," Leonard told him. "You're still recuperating from a mild concussion, not to mention that in the morning you are going to hurt like hell, once all the meds they generously pumped into you start wearing off." He walked over to the corner, grabbed the bag and tossed it at Kirk. "Got another shirt in there?" he asked, wondering if he was going to have to lend the kid his jacket too.
It was a poor grab for the bag, proof the kid was still messed up, but he did catch it. "Yea, yea." He dug into the bag and pulled out a ratty sort of tee shirt (briefly exposing the edge of a cadet uniform). He flexed his fingers a few times, as little as they could flex in their swollen state, and pulled it on clumsily. "Maybe you could convince them to give me a second dose of those meds." Kirk flashed a grin towards Leonard. The shirt he was now wearing had definitely seen better days, and the emblem on it for some bar was faded nearly to the point of obscurity.
Leonard wondered how often that grin worked for other people; it did nothing for him. "I can do you one better," he said, watching as Kirk struggled to get into that threadbare shirt. "I got an extra bed you can crash on tonight," he offered. "If you're still there in the morning, and haven't robbed me blind, I'll give you some more pain meds."
What possessed him to make this deal, he had no idea, but the words were out of his mouth before he had any chance to reconsider. Kirk was obviously thinking about it for several moments, then he rolled his shoulder in a shrug. "Can't say I'm not grateful for the offer." Those eyes settled on Leonard again, very focused this time, "I'll do what I can to repay ya." A smaller smile this time instead of that bullshit grin.
Jesus... "Thanks, but no thanks, kid," Leonard replied, opening the curtain so they could leave, making their way down the long hallway to the hospital's exit. The air was chilly outside, the fog having rolled in the early morning hours - too chilly for a thin t-shirt. Shrugging off his jacket, he handed it to Kirk, taking the bag in his hands so the younger man could slip it on. Kirk held it in his hands for a long moment, almost looking like he would give it back in a fit of pride, but finally shrugged into it with only a bit-off sound of pain. He waited in silence beside Leonard as they waited for a cab to be patrolling by the hospital at this pitiful time in the morning, and kept up that silence as they they caught a cab and made it back to Leonard's dorm room as the early risers were starting to make their way across campus. Fuck, Leonard thought to himself, opening the door and letting Kirk inside. At least he didn't have anywhere to be today.
The room was stark, devoid of most of the things one would see in a younger cadet's dorm room, but Leonard McCoy wasn't a younger cadet. The bed wasn't made because of the suddenness of his departure earlier that evening (or early morning, depending on how you looked at it) but that was the only thing out of place. His desk was tidy, with a data pad and lamp. The only personal effects were on his bookshelf, which held a few old-fashioned books and a small picture frame.
But the rest of the room was spotless - in fact, one side of the room completely empty. Kirk did not hesitate for a second to walk over to that empty bed and sit down on it, watching Leonard with a nearly unsure gaze from under long lashes. In a borrowed jacket and ragged t-shirt beneath, bruised and swollen, dirty... he looked like a back-alley cur. Something that looked pathetic when begging for scraps, but something you would be very wary of cornering.
Leonard walked into the bathroom, came out with a towel. "Here, if you want to go to shower, go ahead. You'll feel better, and," he hesitated, "it's probably a good idea for you to stay awake just a bit longer. You feel dizzy or any light-headedness?" The more he kept the conversation on Kirk's injuries, the more confident he felt with this strange situation he'd gotten himself into with the younger man, who despite his youth somehow made Leonard feel like he was no longer in control. "You hungry?"
"Fuckin' starving." Kirk licked his lips as he took the towel, stepping close to Leonard. He glanced over the doctor appraisingly, then smirked a little, "A bit, but hard to tell if its from the bottle over my head, the alcohol, or the company." He grinned before he turned, moving over to the shared bathroom with the air of someone used to being in the dorms.
Leonard refused to back up as the kid approached him, feeling like hunted prey at that look in Kirk's eyes. The kid knew what he had and wielded that like a knife. Closing his eyes after Kirk moved into the bathroom, he took a deep breath and headed toward the small kitchen area. He threw together several sandwiches, eating one himself before heading back to his bed, resting on top of the covers. He didn't want to fall asleep, no, not until the kid was out, and had eaten something, but before he knew it, his eyes closed and he'd drifted off.
It would be an interesting way to wake up for Leonard.
Something warm was nuzzling up under his neck, something smoothing under his shirt and rubbing across his chest. The something warm under his neck slowly moved up under his ear, then oh wet at the ear lobe. Teeth dragged there, nipping, almost painful, then releasing. "Mmm..."
His eyes snapped open. The kid was next to him, wet and naked except for a towel, hot mouth on him, his hands sliding along his body, picking at the zipper of his jeans. "What? Wait- no," he groaned, sitting up fast. "No, don't..." His hand caught Kirk's, capturing it, keeping it from moving any further toward his rapidly hardening cock. "You don't have to do that," he whispered hoarsely.
Those blue eyes were staring at him, obviously looking a little confused, trying to read if Leonard was being serious. Then, the kid grinned. "Don't have to? What if I want to?" Did he just waggle his eyebrows? Sure did. "Good looking guy, offering me a place for the night and even taking care of me? Can't pass that up."
"Sorry, not my type," he replied, pushing the hand off him. Sex, no strings attached, fast and hard sex with someone he'd never see again sounded really, really good right now, especially when it was practically throwing himself at him. But the last thing he needed right now was a tumble with some wash-out cadet, still fucking injured from the night before. Probably got an STD or three, he thought to himself. Not this one, McCoy.
Leonard swung around, his legs hitting the ground. Kirk was still on his bed, laying there in a goddamned towel, on his bed, looking up at him with the bluest eyes Leonard had ever seen. He bent closer to his face, lifting his chin so that his could see those eyes better. One last check...
He looked down at the chronometer, mentally calculated how long it had been since his injures. "You can sleep now," he told Kirk. "But I'll be waking you up in four hours to make sure you're okay."
Kirk was giving him the strangest look. Finally, he pointed right at Leonard's crotch, "...dude, you're hard. Least let me take care of it. If you're straight, just think of me as a chick and close your eyes." That same wide grin, completely lacking any morals about this.
Yes, ridiculously hard now. Fantastic. "Thanks, Captain Obvious, I noticed," he grumbled, standing and going to his chest of drawer, pulling out a pair of jogging pants. "Put these on, and go get in your bed already." His voice wasn't as harsh as his words, but they still were loud and clear. No.
The pants were caught, and Leonard was still getting a strange, and growing stranger, look from Kirk. He let the towel fall, then pulled on the pants. "...Seriously, what are you looking to get out of this, doc?" Kirk finally asked after a long silence, sitting back on the empty bed.
Leonard walked into the bathroom, came out with a glass of water and some pills. "These'll take a bit longer than a hypospray, but I don't have any aerosol pain meds with me right now." He handed them to the other man, then walked back to his bed. Kirk was quick to take them, a telling sign that he was probably feeling the effects of the hospital's meds wearing off. Sitting down on it, he thought about the last time he'd seen this kid in front of him. The day he'd gotten on that shuttle, not nearly drunk enough, mad as hell, depressed, barely sane, and heading for fucking Starfleet Academy.
Kirk had talked to him for the forty-minute shuttle ride, small talk mostly, but it got his mind off the typically incapacitating fear he usually associated with flying. Leonard wasn't sure if the kid had realized the extend of his phobia, but before Leonard knew it, they landed, filled out some forms, shook hands, and went their separate ways.
Until tonight.
"Payback is hell, kid," Leonard told him, laying down on his own bed. Another glance at the nightstand - 0615. FUCK... "Look, we'll sleep til noon, then go grab some lunch - how does that sound?" he asked, yawning as he wrapped his arms around his pillow.
"...and you're just going to bed hard?" Kirk muttered, but in a very cautious tone said, "Alright. Lunch, yea." He glanced to the chronometer, then slowly slipped himself into the empty bed. A soft sigh echoed in the room, "Night then, doc."
Silence, then quietly, "...thanks."
Several hours passed. The soft chime went off at 1230, Leonard rolling over and batting at it with his hand to turn it off. It was too bright, and for a moment he thought he'd overslept until he remembered the previous night's adventures. James Kirk. Damned kid, writing his name down. Thinking about it now, it seemed sort of funny, to just pick some random stranger and make them your cousin. But that meant he hadn't anyone else to write down, or didn't want to write down anyone he actually knew. Homeless, he remembered too. That wasn't good. Well, if he wasn't an complete idiot, Leonard thought to himself, maybe he could crash on his extra bed, at least until the Academy assigned him a roommate who didn't mind living with an older-than-average grumpy neat-freak.
"All right, time to get up," he called out, turning around in his bed to look at Kirk.
Kirk's empty bed.
Leonard sat up, scratching his face as he stared a minute or two. The bed was made up, as neat as he'd found it. His bag was gone too, along with any evidence that he'd been there. Leonard shook his head, not really surprised, but... disappointed? Was that the feeling? He'd almost looked forward to hearing the story of the bar fight, or what Kirk was studying, or what he'd been up to in the month and a half since they'd arrived in San Fransisco.
Well, it was over, his night's adventure. Sad, the most exciting thing that had happened to him since arriving at Starfleet Academy - hell, since his divorce - was patching up a half-beaten farm boy and turning down his offer for sex. Slightly regretting that now that the kid was gone, Leonard headed to the shower, trying to wake up and decide what he was going to do today.
When Leonard returned, James Kirk was back. There was a meal spread out on the small table in the room - eggs, steak, home fries, and coffee from the look of it. The young man was leaning back in a chair that looked ready to tip over, one of Leonard's books in hand. He glanced up when he heard the door from the bathroom open and grinned a little. "Hope you don't mind I swiped your key card so I could get back in."
"You... what?" Leonard said, wrapping his towel around his waist more tightly. "Is that - my shirt?" he asked, stumbling over to the table, looking down at it. The appropriately stern look on his face was fading at the sight of that delicious food. "Kirk- James, where did you get this?"
"Sorry, I needed something to wear so they didn't question me going in and out." Kirk tugged at the blue material he wore, and when he looked up from it, it was obvious how much it brought out his eyes. Or something like that. "From a diner nearby. Come on, it's gonna get cold if you don't eat."
Leonard walked over to his drawers and pulled out some jeans and an old shirt. He headed back to the bathroom and changed quickly, muttering something about the 'ingratitude of kids these days' and 'fucking Iowa farmboys'. But when he sat down across from lunch companion, he simply said, "Thanks," and began eating. "God," he closed his eyes. "This is really good." One eyebrow went up as he took a bite of the steak. "Where did you get this?" he asked cautiously.
If the kid was willing to blow him for a bed and some pain meds, what would he do for food? Really good food, and a lot of it.
"Told ya, diner nearby. Kinda where I've been eating since I got here." Kirk was digging into his own plate with relish, looking content in stuffing himself like a pig. He didn't sound at all upset or concerned or worried. Could have been discussing the weather.
Leonard understood what was happening - Kirk needed to pay him back somehow; no matter how he'd obtained this food, it was important that he take it, so he put a rare smile on his face and finished his plate, then had seconds.
"So," Leonard began, not sure where to go with his curiosity about Kirk. "So," he started again, "what happened last night?"
Kirk chewed on a piece of steak slowly, thinking about it. He rubbed the back of his neck with his free and said honestly, "Don't remember a lot of the night, really. Just remember it being over some girl. Something about her then this big, ugly fucking guy... and a bunch of his friends showed up out of no where and got me."
That was easy enough. "You trying to nose in on someone's girl?" he asked, before adding, "You still don't remember some of the events of last night?" Maybe there was more to the head injury than he previously thought.
Kirk shook his head a little, "Not nose in. Guy dropped a drug in her drink and was trying to pull her out of the bar." He shrugged a little, poking at the food on his plate.
Leonard shook his head. "You okay?" he asked, worried about the sudden lack of appetite. He leaned in to look closer at the kid. "Something feel off?"
"Nah, just hoping she made it outta there." Kirk shrugged again and popped the remainders of the egg into his mouth. "Thanks for everything last night. I should get going... got a two o'clock class." He scrubbed a hand over his still swollen face, standing up.
"Okay," replied Leonard, pushing back from the table. "I guess it was nice meeting you, em, James?" he said, extending one of his hands, looking a bit confused at the sudden departure, but class was class...
"Jim." Kirk said with a tiny smirk. He looked at the hand offered to him, then reached out and clasped his own to Leonard's and shook it firmly. "Thanks."
"Leonard," he replied, shaking the hand. He watched as the kid - Jim - headed for the door, bag tossed over his shoulder. "Look, Jim," he started, "I don't have a roommate, at least not right now." He looked over at the empty side of the room. "If you ever need a place to crash..."
Kirk turned, looking over his shoulder at Leonard for several long moments. Then, expression and voice confused, "...what are you looking for from me?"
Leonard straightened, a bit defensive. "I'm not looking for anything, kid. Just trying to be nice to someone who helped me out once." He shrugged, as if it didn't mean much to him. "You take care, alright?"
"...Didn't think people like you existed anymore. Genuinely nice guys." Kirk smirked, just a tiny bit, "...I'll take care of myself. S'what I always do." He did a mock salute with two fingers, "I'll be taking you up on that offer sometime." And left with that, heading down the hallway, to who knew where.