After the meld... (Bones/Sam)
The mind meld with Spock had left him even more anguished and confused than before. Jim was out there and he was hurting. Being tortured, being fucking broken by some madman and he couldn't stop thinking about it.
Bones headed toward the Captain's quarters. Still not his room, not yet, not without Jim on board. He sat down at the table to work on some medical files but Spock's meld stayed in his head, a strange ache that he couldn't pin down, if it was what happened between them inside Spock's head or the link or all the shit that was happening to Jim.
Looking down at the chronometer, he saw that it was late, past dinnertime, but fuck it if he was going to be able to eat right now...
He changed into some work out clothes and grabbed Jim's music datacard. Ten minutes later he was in the gym, hitting the track that ringed the room.
*******
An hour later, his legs blissfully sore, his feet continued pounding the floor, falling into a unconscious rhythm to the music blaring in his ear, trying to get rid of the feeling of uselessness, of not being able to do more. Jim's music... on most occasions it amused him because for all of James T Kirk's bad ass captain image, deep down Jim was a hick Iowa farm boy who more often than not listened to good old-fashioned music with guitars and drums and real singers, not the chimes and technocrap they played nowadays.
Usually it made him laugh. Today it made him hurt, but in a good way. He felt closer to Jim listening to his favorite music, like he felt closer to him sleeping in his bed. The voice in his head that told him he was delusional sounded like Jim's voice.
His legs were shaky as he left the gym and headed back. He stopped by the CMO's quarters and let himself in. The room was empty, Sam must have been off doing something, or wandering. Bones picked up a couple things he wanted to get - his journal, another bottle of bourbon and the guitar he bought for Jim in Risa.
He'd bought it, saving it for a special occasion to give it to Jim. He glowered as he stared at it, wondering now what could be more special than just being with Jim, how stupid he was waiting. Should have given it to him, could have heard him playing, singing...
He was still looking at it when the door opened behind him, so lost in his thoughts that he didn't hear anyone walking in.
Bones headed toward the Captain's quarters. Still not his room, not yet, not without Jim on board. He sat down at the table to work on some medical files but Spock's meld stayed in his head, a strange ache that he couldn't pin down, if it was what happened between them inside Spock's head or the link or all the shit that was happening to Jim.
Looking down at the chronometer, he saw that it was late, past dinnertime, but fuck it if he was going to be able to eat right now...
He changed into some work out clothes and grabbed Jim's music datacard. Ten minutes later he was in the gym, hitting the track that ringed the room.
*******
An hour later, his legs blissfully sore, his feet continued pounding the floor, falling into a unconscious rhythm to the music blaring in his ear, trying to get rid of the feeling of uselessness, of not being able to do more. Jim's music... on most occasions it amused him because for all of James T Kirk's bad ass captain image, deep down Jim was a hick Iowa farm boy who more often than not listened to good old-fashioned music with guitars and drums and real singers, not the chimes and technocrap they played nowadays.
Usually it made him laugh. Today it made him hurt, but in a good way. He felt closer to Jim listening to his favorite music, like he felt closer to him sleeping in his bed. The voice in his head that told him he was delusional sounded like Jim's voice.
His legs were shaky as he left the gym and headed back. He stopped by the CMO's quarters and let himself in. The room was empty, Sam must have been off doing something, or wandering. Bones picked up a couple things he wanted to get - his journal, another bottle of bourbon and the guitar he bought for Jim in Risa.
He'd bought it, saving it for a special occasion to give it to Jim. He glowered as he stared at it, wondering now what could be more special than just being with Jim, how stupid he was waiting. Should have given it to him, could have heard him playing, singing...
He was still looking at it when the door opened behind him, so lost in his thoughts that he didn't hear anyone walking in.