Fic: Observer Effect (10/10)
Title: Observer Effect
Author: laughter_now
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Kirk/McCoy, with a smidgeon of Sulu/Chekov thrown in if you stand on your toes and squint
Disclaimer: I keep wishing for them, but I still don't own anything.
Summary: There's something down on that planet. Something no human ever encountered before. The Observers have watched many species fight it. And there is only one common thread to all those encounters - someone always dies.
Answer to this prompt at the buckleup_meme .
Incidentally, this will also fill the prompt "experiments by evil scientists" on my hurt/comfort bingo card.
I'm really sorry that I kept you all waiting for so long. Here you go with the final part of this story.
Chapter 9
Jim did his best to get some sleep, he really did. It had been a tough day, filled with too many close calls. Too many moments that went beyond being a close call, really. By all rights, now that everything was back the way it was supposed to, he should be dead on his feet. He should have no problems at all with falling asleep.
Jim had lost crewmembers before. He was anything but cold towards that, and each of those deaths had followed him for a long time, but never had the mere thought of one of those deaths sent such an icy panic running through his gut as it did today. Hell, they hadn't even lost Chekov and Bones today. There was no reason for him to keep tossing and turning the way he did, chasing sleep that would not come.
Only they had lost Chekov and Bones. They might both be alive and well, both probably fast asleep in their quarters, but Jim had been there. He had been there when Chekov's heart gave out, he had been there when M'Benga declared him dead. He had been there when Bones stopped breathing and his chest stopped moving underneath Jim's hand. That had been real.
And now, every time Jim closed his eyes, he was back there, staring down at Bones' pale face, nearly choking from the sensation of all those emotions suddenly welling up inside of him.
Seeing Bones like that, seeing him die…it had been different from anything Jim had ever felt. Jim had faced death before, more than once in his life - and far too often altogether if Bones' constant grumbling could be believed. But never before like this. The moment Bones had stopped breathing, Jim had felt…
…lost. Not lost exactly, but it was the only word that came even close to describe his feelings at that moment. Lost. Hopeless. Like things didn't make sense anymore.
It scared Jim.
The mere thought of a life without Bones scared the crap out of him, and the degree of that reaction shocked him. Of course, Bones was his friend, and there was no denying that they were close. It was normal that the thought of his best friend dying caused him distress.
But the more Jim kept telling himself that, the more he knew that it was different. It was more than that. Bones was more than that, so much more. And no matter for how long Jim kept tossing and turning in bed, trying to chase away the memories of Bones lying still and lifeless on that biobed, he couldn't stop thinking about it, couldn't stop thinking about how a life without Bones was not something he ever wanted to experience.
Long after midnight, Jim gave up every pretence of trying to fall asleep.
He put on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt and started wandering around his quarters aimlessly, searching for something to occupy himself with. Come tomorrow, he was going to pay dearly if he didn't get some sleep at least, but even though he was physically exhausted, he was still far too wired.
Normally, he would have tried to occupy himself with writing up his report, but today even that distraction was far out of reach. Without the details from Spock and M'Benga, it was completely useless to even try to start on it, and in all honesty Jim didn't know if he could face putting everything he had experienced down yet, anyway. Writing it down, confirming that it had happened, would only make it…real. Even though it had been real, and yet it wasn't, and just the thought of it made Jim's head spin and the nausea rise up in his throat.
It was best if he didn't even think about writing this particular report. But that also meant he had nothing to do for now, and there was no other paperwork that needed to be done, either. He could probably find some tedious and boring task that would keep himself occupied, but that wasn't the point. It wasn't going to solve his problem. Right now, he really needed to sleep, but he couldn't do that until his mind came to rest somehow. Yet there was only one thing that could set his mind at ease and chase away those images that seemed seared into his brain.
He checked the chrono. 1:22 am.
Pretty late.
But then again, maybe not too late. Jim was awake, too, after all, and he probably wasn't the only one aboard who wasn't sleeping even though he was off duty.
There were different ways to find out whether or not Bones was still awake, and probably dropping in on him without any prior announcement was the worst possible choice amongst those. Using the comm beforehand might have been a better idea, but somehow while Jim's head was still deliberating, his feet had already taken him out of his quarters and along the corridors. By the time he arrived in front of Bones' door, he still hadn't really come to a conclusion as to whether or not this was a good idea.
Maybe, before he even thought about possibly calling Bones out of bed by his visit, he should take the time to figure out why the hell he was even here in the first place. It was all too much, too many feelings Jim wasn't really used to suddenly too close to the surface, and he was afraid that if he only took a moment to really think about what it all meant, the result was going to unsettle him completely.
It was probably for the best to delay all thinking for the time being.
And he was here now, anyway. He might as well check if Bones was still awake.
Jim's hand hovered next to the button that would ring the chime for a second, but then he let it drop again with a sigh. If Bone was already asleep, waking him up would only put him in a foul mood. And really, Jim only wanted to check, he only needed to see with his own eyes that Bones was really alive and well, that he was still all right. Even if he was sleeping already. If Jim could only see that for himself, it might put his mind at ease enough for him to get some much needed sleep himself.
He didn't even need to use his Captain's override code. The codes to their quarters had never been a secret between him and Bones, not back at the Academy, and neither here aboard Enterprise. It probably violated a number of security protocols - actually, now that he thought about it, it definitely was a security level breach if the Captain handed out his private access code - but while Jim had been willing to make a lot of concessions when he became Captain, giving up this part of his friendship with Bones hadn't been one of them.
Surely, it wasn't abuse of that knowledge if Jim for once used the code to make sure that Bones was all right. It didn't matter that rationally he knew that if anything had changed, he would have been the first who was notified. Rationality had gone out the window the moment Chekov and Bones had died.
Jim only needed to check up on Bones, just for a second. Surely, the other man couldn't begrudge him that. So Jim only hesitated for a moment before he raised his hand again and entered the sequence into the keypad.
The sound of the door opening seemed incredibly loud in the stillness of the corridor, and Jim quickly entered Bones' quarters before he could think twice about it. Just a quick look, just to make sure that all was well, then he'd leave again.
Bones never had to know.
The room was dark, but Jim knew the layout, and there was enough light streaming in from the corridor for Jim to make out the shapes. Bones' quarters, like all officer's quarters aboard Enterprise, consisted of one room that was only marginally larger than the rooms for the rest of the crew. The Captain's quarters' separated sleeping area was really a luxury aboard a ship where every square meter of available space had a designated purpose. Right now, though, the smaller officer's quarters gave Jim the advantage to be able to see Bones right away.
The single bunk was placed along the wall to Jim's right, and though the light from the corridor didn't reach that corner of the room, Jim could see Bones' outline under the sheets, and he could hear the other man's deep and regular breathing. It should be enough. That was what he had come here for, after all, right? He had come to check that Bones was alive and well, and he wouldn't be lying there fast asleep if he wasn't. Something inside of Jim that had been tense ever since he had left Sickbay relaxed, but despite the visual assurance he didn't turn around and leave again.
It was just a split second of hesitation, but it was enough time for the door sensors to register the lack of movement. Jim flinched as the door slid close with a pneumatic hiss that sounded far too loud in the otherwise silent room. A moment of absolute silence followed, then the Bones-shaped lump on the bed started moving.
Please, don't wake up.
Jim didn't want to have to explain himself, didn't want to have to come up with a reason why he was stalking his friend's bedroom at night, but at the same time a small voice in the back of his head wouldn't shut up about how reassuring it would be to hear his friend's voice, as well. Just to make sure.
"Whaswrong?" Bones asked. His voice was deep and gravelly, stirring something in Jim's gut that he didn't know how to place, and the question was accompanied by the sound of more shifting. Jim knew that he'd have to say something quick. It didn't take much to wake Bones up, and if Bones was woken up without a good and proper reason, grump of epic proportions was bound to follow.
"It's all right. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you. Go back to sleep."
More intelligible grumbling as Bones shifted around further. When he spoke again, his voice sounded more awake. "Lights, ten percent."
Jim blinked against the sudden light in the room, dim as it was, to find that Bones had sat up on the bed and was rubbing at his eyes with the fingers of one hand for a moment before he blinked back at Jim tiredly. His hair was standing up at odd angles on the left side, and there was a slight crease from the pillow running across his left cheek. Jim found the sight oddly fascinating, and could only tear his eyes away once Bones spoke again.
"What's wrong?" He repeated, less slurred this time, though he was obviously still struggling to get to a state that could be called fully awake. "Don't tell me the ship's on fire."
Jim chuckled, even though he didn't feel like it. "No, the ship's fine. I…I should go, and let you go back to sleep."
Retreat was really the only option here, and at least it would give him some time to figure out an explanation for this nightly visit. Jim turned and made a step towards the door when Bones' voice held him back.
"Jim."
Jim stopped, but didn't turn around. "I'm sorry Bones. It could have waited."
"What could have? You're here now, might as well spill."
Jim shook his head, rubbing one hand over his face tiredly. Of course right now his brain chose the moment to desert him. All evening long, it had been running in overdrive, circling through the same thoughts and images over and over again, but right now he couldn't think of a single clever thing to say to deflect from the pathetic true reason why he was here.
I needed to see you. I needed to hear your voice.
Yeah, because that would go over well. Bones would probably commit him back to Sickbay in an instant. And that was if he was lucky.
"Jim." Bones' voice was less sleepy now, less hoarse and gruff. Strangely, it almost sounded worried. "Turn around."
Like a puppet on a string, Jim slowly moved around until he was facing the bed, eyes averted and looking anywhere but at Bones' face. It was going to be hard enough to stumble through whatever bullshit excuse his brain was going to come up with if he didn't have to look Bones in the eye while he did so.
"As I said, it was a stupid idea. Forget that I came here, just…just get some sleep. I'll go back to my quarters and…"
"Damn it, Jim! Don't tell me you came sneaking in here at…," he craned his neck to check the chrono beside the bed, "at 1:45 in the morning with no damn reason at all. Trust me, if you're going for the creepy stalker-vibe, you're definitely on the right track. But on the off chance that you didn't spontaneously turn into a nocturnal shadow that roams these halls at night, it probably has a reason why you're not asleep at this time of night. Especially after that shitfest of a day we've just been through."
Jim almost threw up his hands in frustration, because it was exactly the day they just had been through that was keeping him from getting my rest. " I can't sleep, Bones," he answered instead, mouth running away with him before his brain even had the chance to judge whether this was a good idea or not. "I close my eyes and it's like someone gave me a stimulant. I don't even have to bother trying."
Bones rubbed his eyes again, his gaze now almost fully awake as he looked back at Jim. Worry was slowly sneaking into his expression, and Jim felt guilty for laying all this on Bones right now, when he had plenty of issues of his own to deal with. Again with the selfishness, Jim. Bones had died today, and yet he still couldn't leave him to get some rest. After the day they had had, Bones could probably do with some sleep, as well.
"Geoffrey should still be in Medical. I'm sure he can give you something. And if he's not there, Christine probably is."
It wasn't so much a suggestion as Bones' way of testing Jim. It were too many years that they had been this close now, it wasn't as if Bones couldn't read him. There was no way Jim was going to take a sleeping aid when the reason for his insomnia wasn't something physical. Bones knew that, and it was his subtle way of letting Jim know that he knew. His way of asking what was wrong without actually having to say the words.
Jim shook his head.
"Nah, it's not that bad."
"Just bad enough for you to roam the corridors at night. Come on now, Jim. Don't try to bullshit me."
Jim closed his eyes and shook his head with a sigh. "I'm sorry that I woke you. It's…it could have waited until tomorrow. It's really not that important."
It was a desperate attempt, and Jim hadn't really believed that it was going to work.
"Important enough that it keeps you awake at night. And I'm going out on a limb here and guess that it's also the reason why you couldn't get out of Medical fast enough earlier on."
And there it was. He really should have known it was going to come to this. Bones knew him too well, could read him far better than Jim really wanted to admit, and Bones wasn't ever going to let Jim get by with a bullshit excuse if he suspected a real problem behind it. That only worked with people Jim was able to keep at a distance, and that was a boundary his friendship with Bones had crossed ages ago.
Most of the times, Jim considered it a blessing. Right now, though, he wasn't too sure. Still, even though it was his first instinct, denial was pretty much useless and he knew it.
Deflection, on the other hand…
"I just needed to get out of there. I needed to get my head straight after everything that happened."
Judged by the way Bones' left eyebrow rose and vanished behind the unruly bangs of hair on his forehead, that excuse couldn't have been less convincing.
"What, so you give Chekov the concerned pater familias speech and then turn around and all but run from the room, without even so much as a glance in my direction? Anyone else might have taken that a little personal, Jim."
"Stop it, Bones," Jim rasped out, surprised that he still had enough voice to do so when his throat felt too constricted to even breathe, much less speak.
"No, Jim." Bones sat up fully, and Jim had to turn away from the sight of his friend, all scrunched up from sleep, his clothes wrinkled and his hair a mess, but his eyes wide awake and boring straight into Jim's. "I won't stop it. And you know why? Because it doesn't take a degree in psychology to figure out that something is bothering you, and that your usual coping mechanism is going to be to bottle it all up until the next meltdown. So what the hell is going on that you couldn't even stay in the same room with me this afternoon, but come sneaking into my room at night?"
Jim's eyes widened, and the muscles in his neck protested as he snapped his head to the side to finally look at Bones again. That was so wrong. It was never Bones, never his fault. It was Jim, his fault and problems alone, his fault for letting Bones die, on his own ship, where Bones was supposed to be safe. It was that and the fact that Jim hadn't been and still wasn't able to deal with everything that had happened. But never, not once during this mess, had anything been Bones' fault, and he couldn't let his friend think that.
"It's not you."
"Then what is it?" Bones let his hands drop down on the blankets with a resigned sigh. "Because I sure as hell don't understand it anymore."
"You were dead."
It slipped out before Jim could even think about it, before the filter between his brain and his mouth had the slightest chance to do its damn job.
Bones just looked at him for a long moment, and for the first time in a long while, Jim couldn't quite read the expression in his friend's eyes. Eventually though, Bones ran a hand over his face, looked down on the mattress as if he was gathering his thoughts and then looked up at Jim again.
"But I'm not. I'm still here."
Jim knew that. Rationally, he knew it, but he couldn't get those images out of his head, couldn't stop his hand from feeling the phantom sensation of Bones' chest lowering underneath his hand, not to rise again. He wanted nothing more than to erase those memories from his mind permanently, but they kept rising to the surface as soon as he closed his eyes.
"I know." Jim had to clear his throat and swallow to stop his voice from sounding too raspy. "I know that, Bones. But I was there when you died. I watched you die, and it doesn't make sense anymore."
"Listen, Geoffrey, Spock and I were all over this before I left Medical. I wish I had an explanation I could give you, but I don't know what the hell happened earlier. The readings suggest that there might have been continuous minimal brainwave activity even after cardiac arrest set in. The biobed sensors wouldn't immediately have picked up on it…"
"I know what I saw, Bones!" Jim couldn't rationalize it all away like that. Even if this was the one thing that could explain everything that had happened, Jim knew what he had seen. Bones' death had been real to Jim. His grief had been real, and it was still threatening to choke him at the mere thought of losing the other man.
"I was standing right next to you when you stopped breathing. I know what I saw, all right? You were dead, so don't you give me some bullshit explanation about brainwaves and minimal life signs! You were dead!"
"So was Chekov," Bones said softly, and something inside of Jim gave a painful twist.
He was right, of course. Bones had made a habit out of being right. But Chekov wasn't Bones, and even if that was something Jim was never going to say out loud, something he barely dared to think, today he had learned the extend to which this truth dominated his life.
"I know. And that…damn, I don't want to imagine it. I…when Chekov died, it was bad. I mean it. When M'Benga declared him dead, I couldn't stand the thought of it. And I thought it couldn't get worse. But…" He's not you. "Then you stopped breathing, and it was. It was worse, and that doesn't mean I wanted him to die or anything, but…God, Bones. It was you. And the thought that you were dead was…"
A warm hand around his wrist stopped Jim in the middle of this rant and he was grateful, because he wasn't too sure he could have stopped otherwise. But Bones didn't say anything, didn't do anything either, for that matter, and Jim found himself staring into those hazel eyes for the longest time.
And suddenly, he got it.
It had taken him a while to get here, and he had no clue whatsoever how he could have missed it for so long, but finally, Jim understood. Looking into those deep hazel eyes that seemed almost green in the dim light of the room, all the pieces suddenly slid into place, and the only surprise really was that the picture they formed didn't look anything like Jim had expected. Or maybe, the only surprise was that it really was no surprise at all.
Jim needed Bones.
He needed the grumpy, sleepy doctor who was still blinking owlishly against the dim light of the room, hair standing up at odd angles all over his head as he squinted to get a good look at Jim, and he probably needed him more than he had ever needed another person in his life before.
Always so selfish and needy, Jim.
He ignored the nagging voice in the back of his head because it really wasn't either selfish or needy, and because now he finally understood. He understood why a life without Bones was an unthinkable thought, and he really didn't understand why he hadn't seen it before when it was all so clear to him now.
He looked at Bones like he was seeing him for the first time, like something vital had changed within the blink of an eye. By all appearances, Bones still looked the same, sleepy and a slight bit confused, and Jim had to suppress the sudden urge to reach out and run his finger along the line of the pillow crease against his cheek, tracing it across the stubble lining Bones' skin until it vanished.
This wasn't just a need to have the other man around, the fear of losing the best friend he ever had, this was running so much deeper and Jim was only slowly starting to understand it. Slowly but surely, all those emotions he hadn't really been able to deal with for the past hours started to make sense, and his heart did a funny leap in his chest at the realization. Bones. He wanted, he needed Bones, and nobody else.
"Jim?"
At the sound of Bones' voice, Jim blinked and forced himself to look at the other man, who was looking back at him almost worriedly.
"I can't lose you," he rasped out, the truth of that statement rolling heavily off his tongue even though he couldn't really remember if this was the answer Bones was looking for or not. He had lost track of the thread of this conversation a while ago.
Bones held his gaze, but the confusion was still evident on his face. "Jim, what's going on?"
What was going on was that Jim had had the best damn thing in his entire life right in front of him for years, and it had taken actually losing Bones for him to realize it. It was all a confused mess in his head, though, and Bones was still looking at him as if he was expecting an answer Jim wasn't too sure he was ready to give. And before the conscious and rational part of his brain had the chance to finally wake up and get its say, Jim leaned forward and pressed his lips against Bones'.
The angle was awkward, and in all honesty Jim's brain was still far too occupied trying to make sense of what the hell was happening, but Bones' lips were warm and dry against his, and all Jim could think was how right this felt. His heart had to be pounding a mile a minute, and if any alarm klaxons had sounded at that moment, Jim would have missed it completely. Bones wasn't kissing him back, but for one glorious moment, Jim reveled in feeling nothing but this kiss.
But then Bones was pulling away, gently, but still determinedly enough to bring some distance between them, and something shattered inside of Jim at the rejection. Of course Bones wouldn't want…it was stupid, and selfish, and quite probably Jim had just ruined things between them irrevocably.
Hazel eyes were boring into his, wide open with honest confusion, and it was all Jim could do not to drop the gaze, turn around and run as far as he could.
"Jim, we can't…"
Of course not, and Jim had been stupid enough not to think before he acted. Just this once, when it really mattered.
"Bones, I'm sorry, I…"
But Bones only shook his head. "No Jim. I get it, and it's not…you've been through the textbook definition of a high-stress situation, and such a reaction is really not that uncommon. You thought you lost two crewmembers, that's one hell of a trauma right there, and with the added sleep deprivation…"
Bones was babbling, Jim realized. After the first crushing moment of rejection, his brain finally caught up with what was going on, and he realized that Bones might have pushed them apart from their kiss, but his hands were still holding on to Jim's arms, and he wasn't really meeting Jim's eye as he coughed up that psychology textbook crap about the trauma of near-loss. And maybe this whole emotional mess he had been in for the entire day was screwing with his perception, and maybe he was on the way towards screwing this up royally, but Jim had already taken the plunge, and he was not going to take it back.
"No, Bones. No. Don't. This…maybe I'm an emotionally stunted idiot for not realizing all this sooner, but you can't just rationalize this away. This wasn't just about nearly losing two of my crewmembers, for crying out loud! And of course I care about Chekov. I don't even want to think about losing him, but that…"
Jim had never been the kind of person who couldn't find the right words when it mattered, but right now that ability seemed to have up and left him without prior warning. Helplessly, he looked up at Bones, seeking out his eyes in the hope that the other man was still following what he was saying. Bones' expression was guarded, but he made no move to interrupt, and Jim realized that the only way he was going to get out of this again was with the truth.
"It doesn't even compare, Bones. I can't lose you. I just can't. It scared me when you got infected, and when we realized that there was no cure…the moment M'Benga ordered you to inject yourself with that tranquillizer and I realized that this was probably going to be the last time we talked, it tore me apart. I can't lose you, Bones. It doesn't make sense without you, and it took me a while to get it, but this is no delayed stress reaction. I know what I'm doing. It's probably the first time in a long while that I really know what I'm doing."
He nearly laughed, because suddenly, it was all clear in his head, and putting the realization that had slowly crept up to him into words actually felt like a relief. "You're the best damn thing that ever happened to me, Bones. And that's more than friendship. I had to lose you to realize that, and there are no words to describe how screwed up that is, but that doesn't make it any less true."
And maybe he was still too much of a coward to actually say the words out loud, but Jim kept looking into Bones' eyes, and he saw that the other man had understood what he wanted to say. For a long moment, neither of them moved, and Jim became acutely aware of the warm pressure of Bones' hands still resting against his arms, caught somewhere between holding onto Jim and holding him at a distance.
Time for one final plunge. This time though, it took far more courage than the first. But Bones was making no move to push away, and Jim took that as the encouragement he needed.
"I'm calling do-over."
Dark brows drew together in confusion, and Jim felt the corners of his mouth tug upwards almost imperceptibly.
"I'm going to kiss you again now." Bones' eyes widened slightly, almost imperceptibly, but Jim was close enough to see it. He wasn't sure what this meant, but Bones still wasn't pulling away, and that fact alone was the only source Jim drew his courage from. Lips curling into a small smile, he leaned in a little closer, so that their faces were only inches apart. "You know, if you still think this is a bad idea."
Maybe he was imagining things, but he thought Bones was leaning in a little closer. "Just…just as a warning."
He really didn't want to contemplate what he'd do if Bones were to pull away. But Bones didn't move, even as Jim shifted yet another bit closer, and the last thing Jim saw as he closed the last few inches between them was the sight of hazel eyes fluttering shut. Then his lips were back against Bones', and though that last kiss had only happened a few minutes ago, this time it felt…real.
Bones' lips were a soft, warm pressure against his own, and Jim's heart started to beat twice as fast when he realized that Bones wasn't pushing him away. His hands were still resting against Jim's arms, but after a few moments he felt one of them slide up his arm until the warm, calloused hand came to rest against the back of Jim's neck and pulled him closer.
A small, needy sound escaped Jim's lips and he shifted, trying to press even closer, his hands fisted in the fabric of Bones' shirt as if he had to hold him in place. And somewhere, deep inside, beneath all those jumbled emotions Jim wasn't used to dealing with, he was still worried that Bones was going to push him away again. But Bones wasn't trying to escape his hold, in fact he was pressing even closer to Jim, and if it hadn't been for the need to actually breathe once in a while in order to survive, Jim would have gladly spent the rest of his life like this.
Jim wasn't willing to break apart fully, though, and almost automatically he shifted, nuzzling his face into the crook of Bones' neck. It was as if his body already knew which way they fit best, which places of Bones' body seemed to have been made solely for the purpose of Jim burrowing into him. He sighed as his whole body seemed to relax all at once now, and the earlier elusive fatigue was catching up with him rapidly now that Bones was here, and not pushing him away. Jim didn't think he could have kept it together if he had. Kissing Bones felt like coming home, and he never wanted to stop.
Bones chuckled, a low rumble that Jim felt more than he heard it, and he realized that he must have said that last part out loud.
"I didn't know you get poetic when you're completely sleep-deprived."
But there was no sting to the words, just a gentle fondness - the kind that Jim had often heard Bones direct towards him before. Maybe that meant he wasn't the only one who had refused to see the obvious for the longest time. Or maybe he was just imagining things, but he was simply too tired to open his eyes and look up into Bones' face. He was too tired to do anything but lean against Bones, press as closely against him as possible, and breathe in his scent. Bones was gently running his hand through the hair on the back of Jim's head, and Jim was sure he could have fallen asleep like this, warm and content and with that panicked feeling in his gut quiet for the first time today, if Bones hadn't started to shift them around.
A small, discomforted sound escaped his lips as Jim tried to hang on to Bones. But Bones only chuckled as he gently but firmly pushed Jim back into the bed.
"Come on Jim, you need to get some rest. Hell, I need to get some sleep now, or else you won't want to be around me come tomorrow."
Jim wanted to respond that he always wanted to be with Bones, tired and grumpy or not, but it was all he could do to kick off his boots before Bones maneuvered him into a prone position on the narrow mattress. Bones' body was deliciously sleep-warm against him, and with a sigh Jim stretched out on the bed as Bones spread the blanket over them both and pulled Jim in close.
By all rights, the bed should be too narrow for the two of them, but somehow it didn't feel like too little space as their bodies aligned almost automatically. It felt known and comfortable, not like something new but as if they had always shared the same space. Jim sighed as his body all but melted into the bed, but still there was a small nagging feeling of doubt in the back of Jim's mind. It felt too easy, and if there was one thing Jim had learned in his life, then that the good things in life didn't come this easy. There had always been a strong friendship between them, but what if Bones was simply being indulgent right now so that Jim would get some rest?
He didn't think Bones would go that far, but Jim couldn't help the feeling that this was too good to be true, and that come tomorrow morning, all of it would be gone again.
"I mean it," he mumbled against the fabric of Bones' shirt.
"Hmm?" Bones hummed, his hand drawing lazy circles against the back of Jim's head.
Jim shrugged, but still didn't quite dare to raise his head and look up at Bones.
"This. It's not the exhaustion, or because of what happened today. I mean it. And…and it's okay if you don't…if this is friendship for you and nothing more. I…"
"Shut up and finally go to sleep, Jim." Bones' voice was gruff, but his hand was gentle against Jim's hair. "I'll still be around tomorrow. There'll be time for this."
Just a day ago, Jim would have taken it for granted that Bones was always going to be there, but after this day, he wasn't sure of anything anymore. Bones tightened his arms around him and pressed him more firmly against his chest.
"Never been just friendship between us."
He was right, Jim realized as Bones' lips gently pressed against his forehead before he ordered the lights out. It had always been more than that, different and standing apart from all the other relationships in Jim's life. And maybe this was the natural order of things, the way it was supposed to happen at one point. He really didn't know, but lying here with his arms around Bones, it wasn't too hard to imagine that this had been coming for a long time already.
"Stop thinking, Jim," Bones grumbled, shifting slightly on the bed. Jim adjusted to the movement almost without conscious thought. "Finally go get some sleep."
And with the reassuring feeling of Bones' chest rising and falling slowly and regularly against his own, Jim closed his eyes.
The End
As always, thanks a lot for reading. Again, I'm sorry for the long delay, but real life got in the way. This is going to be the last you'll hear from me for a while, but I couldn't leave this standing unfinished, unsatisfactory as the ending turned out to be from my perspective. I still hope especially the OP enjoyed, or at least got a feeling of closure on this story.
Author: laughter_now
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Kirk/McCoy, with a smidgeon of Sulu/Chekov thrown in if you stand on your toes and squint
Disclaimer: I keep wishing for them, but I still don't own anything.
Summary: There's something down on that planet. Something no human ever encountered before. The Observers have watched many species fight it. And there is only one common thread to all those encounters - someone always dies.
Answer to this prompt at the buckleup_meme .
Incidentally, this will also fill the prompt "experiments by evil scientists" on my hurt/comfort bingo card.
I'm really sorry that I kept you all waiting for so long. Here you go with the final part of this story.
Chapter 9
Jim did his best to get some sleep, he really did. It had been a tough day, filled with too many close calls. Too many moments that went beyond being a close call, really. By all rights, now that everything was back the way it was supposed to, he should be dead on his feet. He should have no problems at all with falling asleep.
Jim had lost crewmembers before. He was anything but cold towards that, and each of those deaths had followed him for a long time, but never had the mere thought of one of those deaths sent such an icy panic running through his gut as it did today. Hell, they hadn't even lost Chekov and Bones today. There was no reason for him to keep tossing and turning the way he did, chasing sleep that would not come.
Only they had lost Chekov and Bones. They might both be alive and well, both probably fast asleep in their quarters, but Jim had been there. He had been there when Chekov's heart gave out, he had been there when M'Benga declared him dead. He had been there when Bones stopped breathing and his chest stopped moving underneath Jim's hand. That had been real.
And now, every time Jim closed his eyes, he was back there, staring down at Bones' pale face, nearly choking from the sensation of all those emotions suddenly welling up inside of him.
Seeing Bones like that, seeing him die…it had been different from anything Jim had ever felt. Jim had faced death before, more than once in his life - and far too often altogether if Bones' constant grumbling could be believed. But never before like this. The moment Bones had stopped breathing, Jim had felt…
…lost. Not lost exactly, but it was the only word that came even close to describe his feelings at that moment. Lost. Hopeless. Like things didn't make sense anymore.
It scared Jim.
The mere thought of a life without Bones scared the crap out of him, and the degree of that reaction shocked him. Of course, Bones was his friend, and there was no denying that they were close. It was normal that the thought of his best friend dying caused him distress.
But the more Jim kept telling himself that, the more he knew that it was different. It was more than that. Bones was more than that, so much more. And no matter for how long Jim kept tossing and turning in bed, trying to chase away the memories of Bones lying still and lifeless on that biobed, he couldn't stop thinking about it, couldn't stop thinking about how a life without Bones was not something he ever wanted to experience.
Long after midnight, Jim gave up every pretence of trying to fall asleep.
He put on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt and started wandering around his quarters aimlessly, searching for something to occupy himself with. Come tomorrow, he was going to pay dearly if he didn't get some sleep at least, but even though he was physically exhausted, he was still far too wired.
Normally, he would have tried to occupy himself with writing up his report, but today even that distraction was far out of reach. Without the details from Spock and M'Benga, it was completely useless to even try to start on it, and in all honesty Jim didn't know if he could face putting everything he had experienced down yet, anyway. Writing it down, confirming that it had happened, would only make it…real. Even though it had been real, and yet it wasn't, and just the thought of it made Jim's head spin and the nausea rise up in his throat.
It was best if he didn't even think about writing this particular report. But that also meant he had nothing to do for now, and there was no other paperwork that needed to be done, either. He could probably find some tedious and boring task that would keep himself occupied, but that wasn't the point. It wasn't going to solve his problem. Right now, he really needed to sleep, but he couldn't do that until his mind came to rest somehow. Yet there was only one thing that could set his mind at ease and chase away those images that seemed seared into his brain.
He checked the chrono. 1:22 am.
Pretty late.
But then again, maybe not too late. Jim was awake, too, after all, and he probably wasn't the only one aboard who wasn't sleeping even though he was off duty.
There were different ways to find out whether or not Bones was still awake, and probably dropping in on him without any prior announcement was the worst possible choice amongst those. Using the comm beforehand might have been a better idea, but somehow while Jim's head was still deliberating, his feet had already taken him out of his quarters and along the corridors. By the time he arrived in front of Bones' door, he still hadn't really come to a conclusion as to whether or not this was a good idea.
Maybe, before he even thought about possibly calling Bones out of bed by his visit, he should take the time to figure out why the hell he was even here in the first place. It was all too much, too many feelings Jim wasn't really used to suddenly too close to the surface, and he was afraid that if he only took a moment to really think about what it all meant, the result was going to unsettle him completely.
It was probably for the best to delay all thinking for the time being.
And he was here now, anyway. He might as well check if Bones was still awake.
Jim's hand hovered next to the button that would ring the chime for a second, but then he let it drop again with a sigh. If Bone was already asleep, waking him up would only put him in a foul mood. And really, Jim only wanted to check, he only needed to see with his own eyes that Bones was really alive and well, that he was still all right. Even if he was sleeping already. If Jim could only see that for himself, it might put his mind at ease enough for him to get some much needed sleep himself.
He didn't even need to use his Captain's override code. The codes to their quarters had never been a secret between him and Bones, not back at the Academy, and neither here aboard Enterprise. It probably violated a number of security protocols - actually, now that he thought about it, it definitely was a security level breach if the Captain handed out his private access code - but while Jim had been willing to make a lot of concessions when he became Captain, giving up this part of his friendship with Bones hadn't been one of them.
Surely, it wasn't abuse of that knowledge if Jim for once used the code to make sure that Bones was all right. It didn't matter that rationally he knew that if anything had changed, he would have been the first who was notified. Rationality had gone out the window the moment Chekov and Bones had died.
Jim only needed to check up on Bones, just for a second. Surely, the other man couldn't begrudge him that. So Jim only hesitated for a moment before he raised his hand again and entered the sequence into the keypad.
The sound of the door opening seemed incredibly loud in the stillness of the corridor, and Jim quickly entered Bones' quarters before he could think twice about it. Just a quick look, just to make sure that all was well, then he'd leave again.
Bones never had to know.
The room was dark, but Jim knew the layout, and there was enough light streaming in from the corridor for Jim to make out the shapes. Bones' quarters, like all officer's quarters aboard Enterprise, consisted of one room that was only marginally larger than the rooms for the rest of the crew. The Captain's quarters' separated sleeping area was really a luxury aboard a ship where every square meter of available space had a designated purpose. Right now, though, the smaller officer's quarters gave Jim the advantage to be able to see Bones right away.
The single bunk was placed along the wall to Jim's right, and though the light from the corridor didn't reach that corner of the room, Jim could see Bones' outline under the sheets, and he could hear the other man's deep and regular breathing. It should be enough. That was what he had come here for, after all, right? He had come to check that Bones was alive and well, and he wouldn't be lying there fast asleep if he wasn't. Something inside of Jim that had been tense ever since he had left Sickbay relaxed, but despite the visual assurance he didn't turn around and leave again.
It was just a split second of hesitation, but it was enough time for the door sensors to register the lack of movement. Jim flinched as the door slid close with a pneumatic hiss that sounded far too loud in the otherwise silent room. A moment of absolute silence followed, then the Bones-shaped lump on the bed started moving.
Please, don't wake up.
Jim didn't want to have to explain himself, didn't want to have to come up with a reason why he was stalking his friend's bedroom at night, but at the same time a small voice in the back of his head wouldn't shut up about how reassuring it would be to hear his friend's voice, as well. Just to make sure.
"Whaswrong?" Bones asked. His voice was deep and gravelly, stirring something in Jim's gut that he didn't know how to place, and the question was accompanied by the sound of more shifting. Jim knew that he'd have to say something quick. It didn't take much to wake Bones up, and if Bones was woken up without a good and proper reason, grump of epic proportions was bound to follow.
"It's all right. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you. Go back to sleep."
More intelligible grumbling as Bones shifted around further. When he spoke again, his voice sounded more awake. "Lights, ten percent."
Jim blinked against the sudden light in the room, dim as it was, to find that Bones had sat up on the bed and was rubbing at his eyes with the fingers of one hand for a moment before he blinked back at Jim tiredly. His hair was standing up at odd angles on the left side, and there was a slight crease from the pillow running across his left cheek. Jim found the sight oddly fascinating, and could only tear his eyes away once Bones spoke again.
"What's wrong?" He repeated, less slurred this time, though he was obviously still struggling to get to a state that could be called fully awake. "Don't tell me the ship's on fire."
Jim chuckled, even though he didn't feel like it. "No, the ship's fine. I…I should go, and let you go back to sleep."
Retreat was really the only option here, and at least it would give him some time to figure out an explanation for this nightly visit. Jim turned and made a step towards the door when Bones' voice held him back.
"Jim."
Jim stopped, but didn't turn around. "I'm sorry Bones. It could have waited."
"What could have? You're here now, might as well spill."
Jim shook his head, rubbing one hand over his face tiredly. Of course right now his brain chose the moment to desert him. All evening long, it had been running in overdrive, circling through the same thoughts and images over and over again, but right now he couldn't think of a single clever thing to say to deflect from the pathetic true reason why he was here.
I needed to see you. I needed to hear your voice.
Yeah, because that would go over well. Bones would probably commit him back to Sickbay in an instant. And that was if he was lucky.
"Jim." Bones' voice was less sleepy now, less hoarse and gruff. Strangely, it almost sounded worried. "Turn around."
Like a puppet on a string, Jim slowly moved around until he was facing the bed, eyes averted and looking anywhere but at Bones' face. It was going to be hard enough to stumble through whatever bullshit excuse his brain was going to come up with if he didn't have to look Bones in the eye while he did so.
"As I said, it was a stupid idea. Forget that I came here, just…just get some sleep. I'll go back to my quarters and…"
"Damn it, Jim! Don't tell me you came sneaking in here at…," he craned his neck to check the chrono beside the bed, "at 1:45 in the morning with no damn reason at all. Trust me, if you're going for the creepy stalker-vibe, you're definitely on the right track. But on the off chance that you didn't spontaneously turn into a nocturnal shadow that roams these halls at night, it probably has a reason why you're not asleep at this time of night. Especially after that shitfest of a day we've just been through."
Jim almost threw up his hands in frustration, because it was exactly the day they just had been through that was keeping him from getting my rest. " I can't sleep, Bones," he answered instead, mouth running away with him before his brain even had the chance to judge whether this was a good idea or not. "I close my eyes and it's like someone gave me a stimulant. I don't even have to bother trying."
Bones rubbed his eyes again, his gaze now almost fully awake as he looked back at Jim. Worry was slowly sneaking into his expression, and Jim felt guilty for laying all this on Bones right now, when he had plenty of issues of his own to deal with. Again with the selfishness, Jim. Bones had died today, and yet he still couldn't leave him to get some rest. After the day they had had, Bones could probably do with some sleep, as well.
"Geoffrey should still be in Medical. I'm sure he can give you something. And if he's not there, Christine probably is."
It wasn't so much a suggestion as Bones' way of testing Jim. It were too many years that they had been this close now, it wasn't as if Bones couldn't read him. There was no way Jim was going to take a sleeping aid when the reason for his insomnia wasn't something physical. Bones knew that, and it was his subtle way of letting Jim know that he knew. His way of asking what was wrong without actually having to say the words.
Jim shook his head.
"Nah, it's not that bad."
"Just bad enough for you to roam the corridors at night. Come on now, Jim. Don't try to bullshit me."
Jim closed his eyes and shook his head with a sigh. "I'm sorry that I woke you. It's…it could have waited until tomorrow. It's really not that important."
It was a desperate attempt, and Jim hadn't really believed that it was going to work.
"Important enough that it keeps you awake at night. And I'm going out on a limb here and guess that it's also the reason why you couldn't get out of Medical fast enough earlier on."
And there it was. He really should have known it was going to come to this. Bones knew him too well, could read him far better than Jim really wanted to admit, and Bones wasn't ever going to let Jim get by with a bullshit excuse if he suspected a real problem behind it. That only worked with people Jim was able to keep at a distance, and that was a boundary his friendship with Bones had crossed ages ago.
Most of the times, Jim considered it a blessing. Right now, though, he wasn't too sure. Still, even though it was his first instinct, denial was pretty much useless and he knew it.
Deflection, on the other hand…
"I just needed to get out of there. I needed to get my head straight after everything that happened."
Judged by the way Bones' left eyebrow rose and vanished behind the unruly bangs of hair on his forehead, that excuse couldn't have been less convincing.
"What, so you give Chekov the concerned pater familias speech and then turn around and all but run from the room, without even so much as a glance in my direction? Anyone else might have taken that a little personal, Jim."
"Stop it, Bones," Jim rasped out, surprised that he still had enough voice to do so when his throat felt too constricted to even breathe, much less speak.
"No, Jim." Bones sat up fully, and Jim had to turn away from the sight of his friend, all scrunched up from sleep, his clothes wrinkled and his hair a mess, but his eyes wide awake and boring straight into Jim's. "I won't stop it. And you know why? Because it doesn't take a degree in psychology to figure out that something is bothering you, and that your usual coping mechanism is going to be to bottle it all up until the next meltdown. So what the hell is going on that you couldn't even stay in the same room with me this afternoon, but come sneaking into my room at night?"
Jim's eyes widened, and the muscles in his neck protested as he snapped his head to the side to finally look at Bones again. That was so wrong. It was never Bones, never his fault. It was Jim, his fault and problems alone, his fault for letting Bones die, on his own ship, where Bones was supposed to be safe. It was that and the fact that Jim hadn't been and still wasn't able to deal with everything that had happened. But never, not once during this mess, had anything been Bones' fault, and he couldn't let his friend think that.
"It's not you."
"Then what is it?" Bones let his hands drop down on the blankets with a resigned sigh. "Because I sure as hell don't understand it anymore."
"You were dead."
It slipped out before Jim could even think about it, before the filter between his brain and his mouth had the slightest chance to do its damn job.
Bones just looked at him for a long moment, and for the first time in a long while, Jim couldn't quite read the expression in his friend's eyes. Eventually though, Bones ran a hand over his face, looked down on the mattress as if he was gathering his thoughts and then looked up at Jim again.
"But I'm not. I'm still here."
Jim knew that. Rationally, he knew it, but he couldn't get those images out of his head, couldn't stop his hand from feeling the phantom sensation of Bones' chest lowering underneath his hand, not to rise again. He wanted nothing more than to erase those memories from his mind permanently, but they kept rising to the surface as soon as he closed his eyes.
"I know." Jim had to clear his throat and swallow to stop his voice from sounding too raspy. "I know that, Bones. But I was there when you died. I watched you die, and it doesn't make sense anymore."
"Listen, Geoffrey, Spock and I were all over this before I left Medical. I wish I had an explanation I could give you, but I don't know what the hell happened earlier. The readings suggest that there might have been continuous minimal brainwave activity even after cardiac arrest set in. The biobed sensors wouldn't immediately have picked up on it…"
"I know what I saw, Bones!" Jim couldn't rationalize it all away like that. Even if this was the one thing that could explain everything that had happened, Jim knew what he had seen. Bones' death had been real to Jim. His grief had been real, and it was still threatening to choke him at the mere thought of losing the other man.
"I was standing right next to you when you stopped breathing. I know what I saw, all right? You were dead, so don't you give me some bullshit explanation about brainwaves and minimal life signs! You were dead!"
"So was Chekov," Bones said softly, and something inside of Jim gave a painful twist.
He was right, of course. Bones had made a habit out of being right. But Chekov wasn't Bones, and even if that was something Jim was never going to say out loud, something he barely dared to think, today he had learned the extend to which this truth dominated his life.
"I know. And that…damn, I don't want to imagine it. I…when Chekov died, it was bad. I mean it. When M'Benga declared him dead, I couldn't stand the thought of it. And I thought it couldn't get worse. But…" He's not you. "Then you stopped breathing, and it was. It was worse, and that doesn't mean I wanted him to die or anything, but…God, Bones. It was you. And the thought that you were dead was…"
A warm hand around his wrist stopped Jim in the middle of this rant and he was grateful, because he wasn't too sure he could have stopped otherwise. But Bones didn't say anything, didn't do anything either, for that matter, and Jim found himself staring into those hazel eyes for the longest time.
And suddenly, he got it.
It had taken him a while to get here, and he had no clue whatsoever how he could have missed it for so long, but finally, Jim understood. Looking into those deep hazel eyes that seemed almost green in the dim light of the room, all the pieces suddenly slid into place, and the only surprise really was that the picture they formed didn't look anything like Jim had expected. Or maybe, the only surprise was that it really was no surprise at all.
Jim needed Bones.
He needed the grumpy, sleepy doctor who was still blinking owlishly against the dim light of the room, hair standing up at odd angles all over his head as he squinted to get a good look at Jim, and he probably needed him more than he had ever needed another person in his life before.
Always so selfish and needy, Jim.
He ignored the nagging voice in the back of his head because it really wasn't either selfish or needy, and because now he finally understood. He understood why a life without Bones was an unthinkable thought, and he really didn't understand why he hadn't seen it before when it was all so clear to him now.
He looked at Bones like he was seeing him for the first time, like something vital had changed within the blink of an eye. By all appearances, Bones still looked the same, sleepy and a slight bit confused, and Jim had to suppress the sudden urge to reach out and run his finger along the line of the pillow crease against his cheek, tracing it across the stubble lining Bones' skin until it vanished.
This wasn't just a need to have the other man around, the fear of losing the best friend he ever had, this was running so much deeper and Jim was only slowly starting to understand it. Slowly but surely, all those emotions he hadn't really been able to deal with for the past hours started to make sense, and his heart did a funny leap in his chest at the realization. Bones. He wanted, he needed Bones, and nobody else.
"Jim?"
At the sound of Bones' voice, Jim blinked and forced himself to look at the other man, who was looking back at him almost worriedly.
"I can't lose you," he rasped out, the truth of that statement rolling heavily off his tongue even though he couldn't really remember if this was the answer Bones was looking for or not. He had lost track of the thread of this conversation a while ago.
Bones held his gaze, but the confusion was still evident on his face. "Jim, what's going on?"
What was going on was that Jim had had the best damn thing in his entire life right in front of him for years, and it had taken actually losing Bones for him to realize it. It was all a confused mess in his head, though, and Bones was still looking at him as if he was expecting an answer Jim wasn't too sure he was ready to give. And before the conscious and rational part of his brain had the chance to finally wake up and get its say, Jim leaned forward and pressed his lips against Bones'.
The angle was awkward, and in all honesty Jim's brain was still far too occupied trying to make sense of what the hell was happening, but Bones' lips were warm and dry against his, and all Jim could think was how right this felt. His heart had to be pounding a mile a minute, and if any alarm klaxons had sounded at that moment, Jim would have missed it completely. Bones wasn't kissing him back, but for one glorious moment, Jim reveled in feeling nothing but this kiss.
But then Bones was pulling away, gently, but still determinedly enough to bring some distance between them, and something shattered inside of Jim at the rejection. Of course Bones wouldn't want…it was stupid, and selfish, and quite probably Jim had just ruined things between them irrevocably.
Hazel eyes were boring into his, wide open with honest confusion, and it was all Jim could do not to drop the gaze, turn around and run as far as he could.
"Jim, we can't…"
Of course not, and Jim had been stupid enough not to think before he acted. Just this once, when it really mattered.
"Bones, I'm sorry, I…"
But Bones only shook his head. "No Jim. I get it, and it's not…you've been through the textbook definition of a high-stress situation, and such a reaction is really not that uncommon. You thought you lost two crewmembers, that's one hell of a trauma right there, and with the added sleep deprivation…"
Bones was babbling, Jim realized. After the first crushing moment of rejection, his brain finally caught up with what was going on, and he realized that Bones might have pushed them apart from their kiss, but his hands were still holding on to Jim's arms, and he wasn't really meeting Jim's eye as he coughed up that psychology textbook crap about the trauma of near-loss. And maybe this whole emotional mess he had been in for the entire day was screwing with his perception, and maybe he was on the way towards screwing this up royally, but Jim had already taken the plunge, and he was not going to take it back.
"No, Bones. No. Don't. This…maybe I'm an emotionally stunted idiot for not realizing all this sooner, but you can't just rationalize this away. This wasn't just about nearly losing two of my crewmembers, for crying out loud! And of course I care about Chekov. I don't even want to think about losing him, but that…"
Jim had never been the kind of person who couldn't find the right words when it mattered, but right now that ability seemed to have up and left him without prior warning. Helplessly, he looked up at Bones, seeking out his eyes in the hope that the other man was still following what he was saying. Bones' expression was guarded, but he made no move to interrupt, and Jim realized that the only way he was going to get out of this again was with the truth.
"It doesn't even compare, Bones. I can't lose you. I just can't. It scared me when you got infected, and when we realized that there was no cure…the moment M'Benga ordered you to inject yourself with that tranquillizer and I realized that this was probably going to be the last time we talked, it tore me apart. I can't lose you, Bones. It doesn't make sense without you, and it took me a while to get it, but this is no delayed stress reaction. I know what I'm doing. It's probably the first time in a long while that I really know what I'm doing."
He nearly laughed, because suddenly, it was all clear in his head, and putting the realization that had slowly crept up to him into words actually felt like a relief. "You're the best damn thing that ever happened to me, Bones. And that's more than friendship. I had to lose you to realize that, and there are no words to describe how screwed up that is, but that doesn't make it any less true."
And maybe he was still too much of a coward to actually say the words out loud, but Jim kept looking into Bones' eyes, and he saw that the other man had understood what he wanted to say. For a long moment, neither of them moved, and Jim became acutely aware of the warm pressure of Bones' hands still resting against his arms, caught somewhere between holding onto Jim and holding him at a distance.
Time for one final plunge. This time though, it took far more courage than the first. But Bones was making no move to push away, and Jim took that as the encouragement he needed.
"I'm calling do-over."
Dark brows drew together in confusion, and Jim felt the corners of his mouth tug upwards almost imperceptibly.
"I'm going to kiss you again now." Bones' eyes widened slightly, almost imperceptibly, but Jim was close enough to see it. He wasn't sure what this meant, but Bones still wasn't pulling away, and that fact alone was the only source Jim drew his courage from. Lips curling into a small smile, he leaned in a little closer, so that their faces were only inches apart. "You know, if you still think this is a bad idea."
Maybe he was imagining things, but he thought Bones was leaning in a little closer. "Just…just as a warning."
He really didn't want to contemplate what he'd do if Bones were to pull away. But Bones didn't move, even as Jim shifted yet another bit closer, and the last thing Jim saw as he closed the last few inches between them was the sight of hazel eyes fluttering shut. Then his lips were back against Bones', and though that last kiss had only happened a few minutes ago, this time it felt…real.
Bones' lips were a soft, warm pressure against his own, and Jim's heart started to beat twice as fast when he realized that Bones wasn't pushing him away. His hands were still resting against Jim's arms, but after a few moments he felt one of them slide up his arm until the warm, calloused hand came to rest against the back of Jim's neck and pulled him closer.
A small, needy sound escaped Jim's lips and he shifted, trying to press even closer, his hands fisted in the fabric of Bones' shirt as if he had to hold him in place. And somewhere, deep inside, beneath all those jumbled emotions Jim wasn't used to dealing with, he was still worried that Bones was going to push him away again. But Bones wasn't trying to escape his hold, in fact he was pressing even closer to Jim, and if it hadn't been for the need to actually breathe once in a while in order to survive, Jim would have gladly spent the rest of his life like this.
Jim wasn't willing to break apart fully, though, and almost automatically he shifted, nuzzling his face into the crook of Bones' neck. It was as if his body already knew which way they fit best, which places of Bones' body seemed to have been made solely for the purpose of Jim burrowing into him. He sighed as his whole body seemed to relax all at once now, and the earlier elusive fatigue was catching up with him rapidly now that Bones was here, and not pushing him away. Jim didn't think he could have kept it together if he had. Kissing Bones felt like coming home, and he never wanted to stop.
Bones chuckled, a low rumble that Jim felt more than he heard it, and he realized that he must have said that last part out loud.
"I didn't know you get poetic when you're completely sleep-deprived."
But there was no sting to the words, just a gentle fondness - the kind that Jim had often heard Bones direct towards him before. Maybe that meant he wasn't the only one who had refused to see the obvious for the longest time. Or maybe he was just imagining things, but he was simply too tired to open his eyes and look up into Bones' face. He was too tired to do anything but lean against Bones, press as closely against him as possible, and breathe in his scent. Bones was gently running his hand through the hair on the back of Jim's head, and Jim was sure he could have fallen asleep like this, warm and content and with that panicked feeling in his gut quiet for the first time today, if Bones hadn't started to shift them around.
A small, discomforted sound escaped his lips as Jim tried to hang on to Bones. But Bones only chuckled as he gently but firmly pushed Jim back into the bed.
"Come on Jim, you need to get some rest. Hell, I need to get some sleep now, or else you won't want to be around me come tomorrow."
Jim wanted to respond that he always wanted to be with Bones, tired and grumpy or not, but it was all he could do to kick off his boots before Bones maneuvered him into a prone position on the narrow mattress. Bones' body was deliciously sleep-warm against him, and with a sigh Jim stretched out on the bed as Bones spread the blanket over them both and pulled Jim in close.
By all rights, the bed should be too narrow for the two of them, but somehow it didn't feel like too little space as their bodies aligned almost automatically. It felt known and comfortable, not like something new but as if they had always shared the same space. Jim sighed as his body all but melted into the bed, but still there was a small nagging feeling of doubt in the back of Jim's mind. It felt too easy, and if there was one thing Jim had learned in his life, then that the good things in life didn't come this easy. There had always been a strong friendship between them, but what if Bones was simply being indulgent right now so that Jim would get some rest?
He didn't think Bones would go that far, but Jim couldn't help the feeling that this was too good to be true, and that come tomorrow morning, all of it would be gone again.
"I mean it," he mumbled against the fabric of Bones' shirt.
"Hmm?" Bones hummed, his hand drawing lazy circles against the back of Jim's head.
Jim shrugged, but still didn't quite dare to raise his head and look up at Bones.
"This. It's not the exhaustion, or because of what happened today. I mean it. And…and it's okay if you don't…if this is friendship for you and nothing more. I…"
"Shut up and finally go to sleep, Jim." Bones' voice was gruff, but his hand was gentle against Jim's hair. "I'll still be around tomorrow. There'll be time for this."
Just a day ago, Jim would have taken it for granted that Bones was always going to be there, but after this day, he wasn't sure of anything anymore. Bones tightened his arms around him and pressed him more firmly against his chest.
"Never been just friendship between us."
He was right, Jim realized as Bones' lips gently pressed against his forehead before he ordered the lights out. It had always been more than that, different and standing apart from all the other relationships in Jim's life. And maybe this was the natural order of things, the way it was supposed to happen at one point. He really didn't know, but lying here with his arms around Bones, it wasn't too hard to imagine that this had been coming for a long time already.
"Stop thinking, Jim," Bones grumbled, shifting slightly on the bed. Jim adjusted to the movement almost without conscious thought. "Finally go get some sleep."
And with the reassuring feeling of Bones' chest rising and falling slowly and regularly against his own, Jim closed his eyes.
The End
As always, thanks a lot for reading. Again, I'm sorry for the long delay, but real life got in the way. This is going to be the last you'll hear from me for a while, but I couldn't leave this standing unfinished, unsatisfactory as the ending turned out to be from my perspective. I still hope especially the OP enjoyed, or at least got a feeling of closure on this story.