James Tiberius Kirk Loves Dylan Marlais Thomas (2/2)
Part One
The next time awareness returns, Jim's eyes are still covered, but whatever was blocking his mouth and throat is gone. However, the pain remains, hovering in the background as if it's just waiting to overwhelm him. He remembers this feeling from multiple visits to Sickbay: the far-off ache in his bones and muzziness in his head that tells him he's on powerful painkillers. The memory is reinforced by the sounds of monitoring equipment and distant voices, the smell of antiseptic.
So, his heart tells him that he was thoroughly enjoying a very pleasant death, and his head tells him he's currently suffering through a very unpleasant life.
What the fuck?
A disappointed groan escapes his lips, sounding weak and tattered as if it was catching on the dry roughness of his throat and tongue. He suddenly realizes his mouth is desert dry and foul-tasting, teeth sticking to the insides of his cheeks and lips. This brings to mind the long, lazy river of death, and he wishes he was back there, if only to be able to dip his head in its waters and quench his thirst.
The touch of something moist and cool against his lips interrupts his musings and he instinctively opens his mouth, desperate for anything to soothe the dryness.
"It's just a hydration swab, I'm afraid." Bones says as he gently coats the inside of Jim's mouth with gel. "Your digestive system is still too...delicate for anything else right now." His voice sounds as if it's choked with all the things Bones can't give voice to and Jim's brain is spinning with so many questions, he has no idea where to start.
"Try swallowing now," Bones instructs, and Jim does as he's told. At least he tries to, but his throat doesn't seem to want to cooperate and he chokes, making him cough. It's barely more than clearing his throat, but the pain tears through his throat, chest, abdomen as he convulses and his eyes water. It's shocking just how such a little thing can hurt so badly, as he finally stops coughing and lays there, exhausted and panting. He barely notices the sting of the hypospray and focuses instead on the sound of Bones's voice
"I'm sorry, Jim, so sorry. I should've known it was too soon. You're just doing so well..." Jim opens his mouth to tell Bones that it's not his fault, but Bones cuts him off. "Don't try to talk, Jim. Just rest and let the serum work."
He wants to know where he is and what's going on and what the hell Bones is talking about. And while he thinks he should feel guilty for wanting Bones stuck here with him, mainly Jim wants Bones to keep talking to him, letting him know he's not alone.
As if he'd read his mind, Bones says, "It's OK, Jim. I'm here. I'm with you now." He lays his hand gently on Jim's forearm and Jim drifts off again.
---
He's starting to believe he's actually alive.
It's the only logical explanation for what he's been hearing and feeling and...
...seeing?
Whatever had been covering his eyes appears to be gone and he can see a faint light even though his closed lids. It takes more effort than he cares to admit to open his eyes just a sliver only to slam them shut again when the brightness sends a stabbing pain directly into his skull.
Several attempts later, the room around him finally begins to come into focus. It takes too much effort to move his head, but before his eyes can begin to catalog his surroundings, he hears the sound of running feet. Bones rushes into the room, shoes skidding on the floor as he makes the turn through the doorway.
"Jim!" He slows down enough to keep from crashing into the biobed as he hurries to Jim's bedside. He stares at Jim, eyes wide and awestruck and Jim feels his own eyes overflow as he looks into that familiar face. "Jim..." Bones keeps his eyes locked with Jim's, his hands coming up to Jim's face, but not touching him, as if he's afraid to make physical contact.
"Hi." Jim's voice sounds like he's been gargling sand, but it's still loud enough for Bones to hear as the other man sucks in a startled breath and his eyes get even wider.
"Jim..." His voice sounds choked and he continues to stare, as if he can't believe what he's seeing. If Jim had any doubts as to whether he's alive or dead, the wonder and love in Bones's eyes have put them to rest.
Bones's hands continue to flit over Jim's body like restless moths until he finally reaches for the tricorder on the nearby table and begins scanning Jim from head to toe, the tremor in his hand visible even to Jim's watery eyes. Bones is focused on the machine's readouts as he scans Jim's abdomen and Jim just stares as his profile, trying to keep his eyes open in fear that Bones will disappear if Jim even blinks. He can't control it when his eyes slip shut, forcing the tears to overflow. Thankfully, Bones is still there and Jim's tears come even faster. He studies Bones for a moment, noticing the several days' worth of beard shadowing his jaw, almost as dark as the circles under his eyes. He looks pale and drawn, washed out even further by the bleached brightness of his white tunic.
Another attempt to speak is fruitless since Jim's throat is parched and raw. He soundlessly repeats Bones's name as he tries to reach out and touch the other man's hand, his sleeve, anything. Bones must notice the movement from the corner of his eye because he looks up, reaching out as if to grasp Jim's arm but hesitating like he did earlier.
He finally looks at Jim once more. "Shit. Sorry, Jim. Gimme a second." He disappears from Jim's line of sight for a moment only to return with a cup of ice and a spoon, which he uses to feed Jim a few chips of ice. "Slowly, Jim. You're still not...your swallow reflex may be damaged."
Jim lets the ice melt on his tongue and the feeling of finally getting some moisture into his mouth is blissful. Swallowing is difficult, be he manages to do so without choking again. "Good. That's good, Jim. Really good." Bones looks pleased, and feeds him another spoonful of ice, his eyes still darting from Jim's mouth to the readouts by the bed to the IV's snaking into Jim's arms.
"Bones..." Jim manages to croak out. He watches as Bones gasps and straightens from where he'd been leaning over the side of the biobed, his face losing what little color it had while he stares at Jim as if he still can't believe his eyes.
"I didn't...I never..." Bones takes a shuddering breath, almost a sob. "I thought nobody would ever call me that again." His face is the very picture of desolation and loss and Jim feels his heart shatter as he recalls all those questions and doubts that had assailed him during his last minutes.
I should've been with you.
Jim remembers hearing those words, desperate and infinitely sad, over and over as he slowly floated back towards the land of the living. He watches Bones turn away and resume his scanning, reaching out every so often as if he's going to touch Jim, only to pull away sharply, as if he's somehow not allowed.
Jim wonders if Bones thinks he isn't allowed to touch him in any way that isn't clinical, not simply because he wants to. If Bones believes he can't touch Jim tenderly, intimately, it's because Jim spent years trying to make Bones believe just that.
Bones looks disconsolate, wrecked, and he can't even bring himself to touch Jim because Jim's spent so many years pushing him away. The distance between them hasn't lessened the pain Bones feels, it hasn't given him comfort or made him feel better.
This distance has made him feel so very much worse.
Jim swears his whole body goes numb for a moment before the realization of what he's done to Bones comes crashing down. And it hurts. God, it hurts more than dying because this time it's all his fault.
He needs to apologize, tell Bones he's sorry for causing him so much pain, tell him how wrong it was to let his own fears keep them apart. He doesn't know if Bones will ever forgive him - and Jim won't blame him if he doesn't. How could Bones ever forgive Jim for years of pushing him away and pretending to be ignorant of the fact that Bones was in love with him?
Jim didn't just break Bones's heart, he broke it over and over and over again. He broke it every time he pulled away when Bones got close, every time he ignored Bones in order to flirt with whatever woman, man or alien caught his eye. How could Bones even stand to look at Jim after everything he's done?
Why has Bones stayed when all Jim has ever done is make him miserable? He'd be better off if he left and found someone who wouldn't throw his love back in his face. For his own good, he should leave.
Please, Bones, don't leave.
Far off, he registers the sounds of an alarm blaring, the sound of footsteps and the chatter of anxious voices. Some part of Jim's brain realizes he's panicking, but he doesn't care, because he has to apologize. He doesn't expect forgiveness, but he needs Bones to know.
"Please don't go...I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, sorry...don't go...Bones, please, I'm so sorry. Don't go..." He's mouthing the words, but again his voice is absent.
"Jim! Jim, what's wrong? Calm down, please." Bones grasps Jim's wrist lightly and Jim turns his hand over to clutch at the other man's fingers, holding on as tightly has his weak hands will allow.
"Sorry, sorry, sorry...don't go...don't leave me...I'm sorry...I love you...please forgive me...please don't go..." Jim still can't hear is own voice, but he can at least feel Bones's fingers tighten around his.
"Shhh...it's OK, Jim. Just try to calm down. Breathe slowly. It'll be all right." Bones's words cut through some of Jim's panic and he can feel his body start to weaken, what little energy he had now exhausted.
"Love you, love you...love you so much. Sorry, sorry...don't go..." Fatigue gradually replaces the fear that had gripped him earlier even as sleep begins to overtake him. "Love you, Bones...love you...please don't go...don't go..."
Jim feels Bones's fingers gently brushing against his forehead and down the side of his face, cupping Jim's cheek with his palm. Jim turns his face into Bones's hand, lips brushing against the other man's palm as he continues with his silent litany. "I'm sorry, so sorry...forgive me...love you...love you so much...Bones..."
Bones softly runs his thumb against Jim's face and Jim hears his voice, quiet and choked. "I'm here, Jim. I'm here now. It'll be OK."
Jim finally succumbs to sleep, knowing that Bones will still be there when he wakes.
END