Fic: Seeing Him, Chapter Five (R)
Title: Seeing Him
Author: emn1936
Rating: R
Pairing: Kirk/Uhura
Disclaimer: Characters not mine; no profit sought or gained
Summary: "I don't want you to stay because of him," she breathed. "I just want you."
Chapter Five
When he next awoke, Kirk was confused by his surroundings. He was obviously lying on a biobed but in a private room. Windows ran the length of two walls and he tried to push himself up onto one elbow so that he could see out but the pain shooting through his body at the movement sent him collapsing back onto the bed.
He fumbled at his side for the call button and held it down with his thumb, grateful when the door swung open almost immediately in response and a relieved smile tipped his lips upward when his friend’s face appeared in the open doorway.
“Jim!” McCoy hurried to his patient’s side and he immediately began to read the vital signs displayed on the overhead monitor.
“What’s going on, Bones?” Jim asked urgently. “Why am I in quarantine?”
The doctor wrapped his hand around his captain’s wrist, reassuring himself by touch that his friend’s heart rate was as steady as indicated by the computer readouts.
“Not quarantine,” McCoy corrected. “Isolation.” He smiled and kept his fingers wrapped loosely around Kirk’s forearm. “Your injuries were not life-threatening but nonetheless extensive,” he explained. “Lacerations and plasma burns over a good percentage of your torso. Less on your lower extremities and face.” He shrugged and patted a gentle hand on the other man’s shoulder. “There’s very little chance of infection, but I’m keeping you here to limit any risk.”
“How long?” Kirk asked.
“How long have you been out? Or how long do you have to stay?”
The captain’s lips twitched into a small smile. “Either. Both.”
McCoy sighed. “I kept you under sedation for thirty-six hours while I worked on the most serious of the lacerations and burns,” he said as he picked up a dermal regenerator from a nearby equipment tray. “I know how much you hate these things,” he smiled kindly. “So I thought it best to let you sleep through the worst of it.”
Kirk struggled again to sit up, succeeding this time with the doctor’s help as he raised the bed. Once he was comfortably settled, he looked up to find McCoy making notations on his chart.
“So, I’ve been out for the better part of a day and a half,” he said. “How much longer until you clear me?”
“Clear you for duty?” McCoy laughed. “Not for at least a week, though I imagine I’ll be booting your sorry ass out of my sickbay sooner than that.” He held up a hand to forestall the argument he saw forming on Kirk’s face.
“Listen, I still need to take care of the more minor injuries. In addition to the burns and lacerations, you cracked a couple of ribs - again - and you fractured your collarbone. Everything has been set but now it’s up to your body to finish the healing process. And to do that, you need rest. Sleep and good food are the best things you can do for yourself.”
Kirk chafed at the idea of being kept from his duties for a week, but he knew from previous experience that this was not an argument he would win today. In a few days he would try to wheedle an earlier concession from Bones, but for now he would accept defeat.
“How is Spock?” he asked instead.
McCoy turned to look through one of the windows and Kirk followed his gaze to find his first officer sitting up in his own bed.
“His injuries were much less extensive than yours,” McCoy reported. “He apparently had preceded you down the hallway and your proximity to the blast resulted in the severity of your injuries.” McCoy hugged the medical PADD to his chest and smiled. “I’m keeping him here one more day and then I’ll send him back to his quarters for a day or two of rest but I expect that I’ll be clearing him for duty by the end of the week.”
“I see he’s well enough for visitors.”
Surprised by the scowl that crossed his friend’s face, McCoy turned back to see what had caused it but saw nothing out of the ordinary. Lieutenant Uhura had arrived in Sickbay and was now perched on the edge of Spock’s bed but the doctor was at a loss to understand Kirk’s attitude.
“You mean Uhura?” McCoy asked. “She’s been here on and off since the two of you were transported back from the space station.”
“What time is it?”
Startled by the abrupt change in topic, McCoy glanced at the chronometer on the wall. “1100 hours,” he told the other man. “Why? Do you have some other place you need to be?”
“No,” Kirk grumbled bad-temperedly. “But she does.” He jabbed a thumb toward the window. “Or has someone been reorganizing the duty rosters while I’ve been out of commission?”
McCoy’s eyes narrowed in confusion over Kirk’s outburst. A sudden thought occurred to him and he shook his head in dismay.
“Oh, Jim. What have you done?” he asked, dread in his voice.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the younger man muttered as his fingers restlessly picked at the threads of the blanket covering his legs.
“Yes, you do,” the doctor retorted as things began to crystallize in his head. “Uhura hasn’t joined us after hours in the rec lounge in over a week,” he realized. “And you’ve been more moody than usual, though I have to say you’ve been doing a good job of covering it up. Someone who doesn’t know you as well as I do would have fallen for your act.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Kirk sneered. “You fell for it,” he muttered under his breath.
But McCoy heard him anyway. “Oh, God. You didn’t. You did!” He reached out and grabbed the other man by the shoulder. “You idiot! When are you going to learn to keep your hands to yourself?”
Kirk wrenched his shoulder away from the doctor’s grasp and bit his lip as pain exploded through his abused body. McCoy apologized and lowered the bed so that his friend was lying down again.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “Here.” He poured water into a cup and held it to Kirk’s lips. “Take small sips,” he cautioned.
Kirk swallowed a mouthful of water and then pushed the doctor’s hand away. He rubbed a shaking hand over his mouth, and his face when he tipped it up to his friend was a study in abject desolation.
McCoy sat heavily on the edge of the bed and laid a comforting hand on the younger man’s chest. “Oh, Jim,” he sighed and wrapped his fingers tightly around his hand. “If it helps any, she checks on you every time she comes into Sickbay.”
Kirk’s lips tipped upward in a travesty of his usual sunny smile. “Thanks, Bones,” he whispered.
“It’s going to be alright,” McCoy promised with a glance toward the couple in the other room. “Everything will be alright.”
Maybe if he repeated it often enough, it would be true.
*************
Author: emn1936
Rating: R
Pairing: Kirk/Uhura
Disclaimer: Characters not mine; no profit sought or gained
Summary: "I don't want you to stay because of him," she breathed. "I just want you."
Chapter Five
When he next awoke, Kirk was confused by his surroundings. He was obviously lying on a biobed but in a private room. Windows ran the length of two walls and he tried to push himself up onto one elbow so that he could see out but the pain shooting through his body at the movement sent him collapsing back onto the bed.
He fumbled at his side for the call button and held it down with his thumb, grateful when the door swung open almost immediately in response and a relieved smile tipped his lips upward when his friend’s face appeared in the open doorway.
“Jim!” McCoy hurried to his patient’s side and he immediately began to read the vital signs displayed on the overhead monitor.
“What’s going on, Bones?” Jim asked urgently. “Why am I in quarantine?”
The doctor wrapped his hand around his captain’s wrist, reassuring himself by touch that his friend’s heart rate was as steady as indicated by the computer readouts.
“Not quarantine,” McCoy corrected. “Isolation.” He smiled and kept his fingers wrapped loosely around Kirk’s forearm. “Your injuries were not life-threatening but nonetheless extensive,” he explained. “Lacerations and plasma burns over a good percentage of your torso. Less on your lower extremities and face.” He shrugged and patted a gentle hand on the other man’s shoulder. “There’s very little chance of infection, but I’m keeping you here to limit any risk.”
“How long?” Kirk asked.
“How long have you been out? Or how long do you have to stay?”
The captain’s lips twitched into a small smile. “Either. Both.”
McCoy sighed. “I kept you under sedation for thirty-six hours while I worked on the most serious of the lacerations and burns,” he said as he picked up a dermal regenerator from a nearby equipment tray. “I know how much you hate these things,” he smiled kindly. “So I thought it best to let you sleep through the worst of it.”
Kirk struggled again to sit up, succeeding this time with the doctor’s help as he raised the bed. Once he was comfortably settled, he looked up to find McCoy making notations on his chart.
“So, I’ve been out for the better part of a day and a half,” he said. “How much longer until you clear me?”
“Clear you for duty?” McCoy laughed. “Not for at least a week, though I imagine I’ll be booting your sorry ass out of my sickbay sooner than that.” He held up a hand to forestall the argument he saw forming on Kirk’s face.
“Listen, I still need to take care of the more minor injuries. In addition to the burns and lacerations, you cracked a couple of ribs - again - and you fractured your collarbone. Everything has been set but now it’s up to your body to finish the healing process. And to do that, you need rest. Sleep and good food are the best things you can do for yourself.”
Kirk chafed at the idea of being kept from his duties for a week, but he knew from previous experience that this was not an argument he would win today. In a few days he would try to wheedle an earlier concession from Bones, but for now he would accept defeat.
“How is Spock?” he asked instead.
McCoy turned to look through one of the windows and Kirk followed his gaze to find his first officer sitting up in his own bed.
“His injuries were much less extensive than yours,” McCoy reported. “He apparently had preceded you down the hallway and your proximity to the blast resulted in the severity of your injuries.” McCoy hugged the medical PADD to his chest and smiled. “I’m keeping him here one more day and then I’ll send him back to his quarters for a day or two of rest but I expect that I’ll be clearing him for duty by the end of the week.”
“I see he’s well enough for visitors.”
Surprised by the scowl that crossed his friend’s face, McCoy turned back to see what had caused it but saw nothing out of the ordinary. Lieutenant Uhura had arrived in Sickbay and was now perched on the edge of Spock’s bed but the doctor was at a loss to understand Kirk’s attitude.
“You mean Uhura?” McCoy asked. “She’s been here on and off since the two of you were transported back from the space station.”
“What time is it?”
Startled by the abrupt change in topic, McCoy glanced at the chronometer on the wall. “1100 hours,” he told the other man. “Why? Do you have some other place you need to be?”
“No,” Kirk grumbled bad-temperedly. “But she does.” He jabbed a thumb toward the window. “Or has someone been reorganizing the duty rosters while I’ve been out of commission?”
McCoy’s eyes narrowed in confusion over Kirk’s outburst. A sudden thought occurred to him and he shook his head in dismay.
“Oh, Jim. What have you done?” he asked, dread in his voice.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the younger man muttered as his fingers restlessly picked at the threads of the blanket covering his legs.
“Yes, you do,” the doctor retorted as things began to crystallize in his head. “Uhura hasn’t joined us after hours in the rec lounge in over a week,” he realized. “And you’ve been more moody than usual, though I have to say you’ve been doing a good job of covering it up. Someone who doesn’t know you as well as I do would have fallen for your act.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Kirk sneered. “You fell for it,” he muttered under his breath.
But McCoy heard him anyway. “Oh, God. You didn’t. You did!” He reached out and grabbed the other man by the shoulder. “You idiot! When are you going to learn to keep your hands to yourself?”
Kirk wrenched his shoulder away from the doctor’s grasp and bit his lip as pain exploded through his abused body. McCoy apologized and lowered the bed so that his friend was lying down again.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “Here.” He poured water into a cup and held it to Kirk’s lips. “Take small sips,” he cautioned.
Kirk swallowed a mouthful of water and then pushed the doctor’s hand away. He rubbed a shaking hand over his mouth, and his face when he tipped it up to his friend was a study in abject desolation.
McCoy sat heavily on the edge of the bed and laid a comforting hand on the younger man’s chest. “Oh, Jim,” he sighed and wrapped his fingers tightly around his hand. “If it helps any, she checks on you every time she comes into Sickbay.”
Kirk’s lips tipped upward in a travesty of his usual sunny smile. “Thanks, Bones,” he whispered.
“It’s going to be alright,” McCoy promised with a glance toward the couple in the other room. “Everything will be alright.”
Maybe if he repeated it often enough, it would be true.
*************