Fic: Bedside Manner (Kirk/McCoy)
Title: Bedside Manner
Pairing: Kirk/McCoy
Summary: Jim wakes up, and Bones does his doctory thing
Rating: Teen/PG13
Word Count: 3660
A/N: #2 in the Two Men & a Starship series. Follows #1: Scorching Monotony. Thank you to everyone who reads/comments! ♥
The medical bay smells better than hospitals, but it still isn’t anywhere that Jim wants to spend a lot of time. Well, unless it’s hanging out with Bones in his office. That’s different than being stuck lying in bed staring at the ceiling overhead. He’s only been awake for a few minutes, but he’s ready to leave now. The smell of antiseptic is stronger than anything else in the air, and he feels a twist in his belly when he notices that the scent of Bones seems to have mostly faded away. He’s alone again, and, to be perfectly blunt, it sucks.
Also, there’s pain, which doesn’t help improve his mood. His legs are sore, his head hurts, and his face hurts, which is different than before. When he woke up earlier, it was just his legs and a headache, so something must have spread while he was knocked out from that damn hypospray. If anyone was around, he’d ask, but, from his position on his back, he can see that there’s a curtain pulled around his bed, and he can’t hear anyone moving on the other side of it. They probably forget about him. Not like Bones cares enough to sit with him, obviously.
He frowns at that thought and glares up at the ceiling, which makes his face hurt more. Bones is CMO, so it’s not like he can just drop everything to sit around waiting for Jim to wake up. He knows this, but it doesn’t make it any easier to wake up alone and hurting. If he didn’t feel so groggy, maybe he wouldn’t care as much. No, that’s a lie. He’d still care because Bones is pushing him away and confusing him, and Jim’s still holding onto the fact that they make their own sort of sense. It isn’t over until he and Bones say it is, and no one’s said that yet. But does Bones not being here say it without needing the words?
“Damn it, Jim. You need to wake the fuck up.” The hoarsely whispered words are coming from the bottom of the bed.
“Bones?” He cringes at how horrible he sounds. Also, why the hell does talking hurt his throat?
“Jim?” Bones suddenly appears in his line of vision, standing up from near his left foot. He looks as bad as Jim feels. He walks to the top of the bed and puts his hand on Jim’s forehead. The warm touch feels good, and Jim’s eyelashes flutter as he swallows a few times, trying to get his mouth wet. “You were starting to scare me, you asshole.”
“M’face feels weird,” he says, staring at Bones unashamedly. It’s been weeks since he’s had the opportunity to do so, and he’s not above taking advantage of the situation, regardless of how sore he is right now.
“Don’t worry. You’re still pretty,” Bones murmurs as he gently strokes his fingers along the curve of Jim’s cheek. He clears his throat and drops his hand, which is disappointing. “I’ve had to add another allergy to your chart. There’s something in the hypospray that we gave you during the time we were working on your legs that you didn’t react to properly. It’s been added to your record, along with the dozen or more other things already listed there.”
“Don’t,” he mutters, frowning as he watches Bones. “Not CMO now. Just Bones.”
“I’m always the CMO, just like you’re always the captain,” Bones points out gruffly. “The allergic reaction caused inflammation in your face and throat. It’s fine now, but there’s probably still some soreness.”
Jim sighs and raises his hand from the bed, reaching out to touch Bones’ arm. “Why?” he asks, blaming the medications in his system for not having any sort of filter at the moment. That doesn’t explain his normal lack of one, but it’s a good enough excuse right now.
Of course, Bones ignores the question, pretending that he doesn’t know what Jim’s really asking. “You’ve been out for forty hours. I--we were starting to get really concerned,” Bones says, but Jim can hear the underlying worry beneath the ‘competent doctor’ tone.
“No wonder I feel so groggy.” He tightens his grip on Bones’ arm when he realizes that Bones hasn’t moved away. “How’re my legs?”
“Sore but fine. We were able to get the toxin out of your system before any real damage could be done, and we knitted the skin back together. It doesn’t look that great yet, while it heals, but there won’t be any permanent scarring.” Bones runs his fingers through his hair and his shoulders slump. “What were you thinking, Jim?”
“About how good you feel pressed against me when you’re naked,” he says matter-of-factly. Just because Bones doesn’t want to discuss them doesn’t mean he’s going to steer clear of the subject. “Oh, you don’t mean right now, do you?”
“Bastard,” Bones grumbles, but he doesn’t look away, which has to be a good sign. Right? “You know what I mean.” Jim doesn’t point out that Bones obviously knows what he means, too, because he doesn’t feel up to an argument.
“My priority is to keep my crew safe. I did that.” Jim shifts and sits up slightly, noticing the chair at the foot of his bed when he’s in this new position. There’s a squashed up pillow in it, an almost empty glass of water, some wrappers from nutritional supplements, and a blanket. He looks up at Bones. “You slept there.” It isn’t a question.
“As CMO, my priority is to keep the captain safe,” he says simply. He licks his lips and shifts his weight from one foot to another. “I wanted to be here to examine you when you woke up. The rest of the staff is extremely capable, but the captain is the CMO’s primary responsibility.”
“Justification,” he whispers as he studies Bones’ face. He can understand it since the staff isn’t likely to think it’s odd for the CMO to be focused on the captain’s recovery. Still, he knows that it’s more than that. Bones sees him as Jim first and foremost. That hasn’t changed.
Bones stares at him in that intense way of his and shrugs a shoulder. “Maybe,” he finally says. It’s enough for now because it means that he still cares, regardless of all the recent confusion and avoidance bullshit. Not that Jim ever really doubted that. It’s one of the reasons that he hasn’t been able to figure out what Bones’ issues are because it’s obvious to Jim that there is still something between them, the emotions and attraction and all that baffling stuff.
“Can I leave now?” He pulls on a thread of the blanket covering him and looks at Bones hopefully. His throat is sore, but it doesn't really hurt to talk, and he can remember feeling worse in the past, so this isn't too bad. “I feel better, so I don’t really need to be taking up a bed or anything.”
“Damn it, Jim. You were poisoned and bitten by some alien beasts, and you had an allergic reaction to medication that nearly killed you when your airway was swollen. On top of that, you were out for over twice the standard amount of time for the sedative.” Bones shakes his head. “I have to check your vitals, and we need to monitor you for at least twenty-four hours.”
“I need to get back to work. If I’ve been out that long, it means that Spock’s probably getting too comfortable with being acting captain. I need to go to the bridge to remind him who’s boss and to get my chair back,” Jim says, playing slightly dirty by mentioning Spock because he knows that Bones still hasn’t let down his guard around the Vulcan. It’s a slight point of contention between them, the fact that Jim’s open to developing some sort of friendship with the man that Bones blames for Jim nearly getting killed. While that’s true, Jim thinks their styles balance well for the good of the ship, and that’s more important than personal grievances. Bones just hasn’t seen things his way yet, is all.
“No,” Bones says firmly. “It’s going to be twenty-four hours of observation then at least forty-eight to seventy-two hours of rest. You nearly lost your right leg, you idiot. If it had been even an hour later before you returned to the Enterprise, the toxins would have probably killed you. I won’t remove you completely from duty unless you push me, but I wouldn’t recommend pressing your luck this time, Captain.”
“Being stuck doing nothing for two or three days is removing me from duty, Doctor,” Jim says more sharply than he planned.
“No, it’s making sure that you don’t do anything to fuck yourself up even more,” Bones tells him tightly. “You can still be captain from your quarters, but I’m not releasing you to go back to the bridge yet. No arguments.”
“There’s nothing to do in my quarters,” he whines, deciding to try a different approach before he gets frustrated and says something he’ll regret. “All the fun stuff is on the bridge. Not even if I promise to just sit in the chair and boss people around?”
Bones rolls his eyes. “No, and if you don’t shut up, I won’t even release you to your quarters because I’m starting to wonder if I can even trust you to rest there. It might be best to keep you here under constant supervision.”
“Damn it,” he mutters crossly. “I don’t want to stay here.”
“Then stop being a baby and accept that I know what I’m talking about when it comes to a decent recovery time,” Bones snaps at him. “I didn’t get made CMO for my charming personality and good looks, after all.”
Jim glances up at him and sighs. “I like your looks and personality, but, no, they’re not why you’re here now.”
“Jim, someone could come in at anytime and overhear you,” Bones points out quietly, some of his annoyance fading from his tone. “You need to be more careful about what you’re saying.”
“Right. Secrets.” He smiles wryly and moves the blanket, staring at his bandaged legs. “Can I return to my quarters now?”
“The initial observation needs to be done here. You can’t be alone and be observed. It doesn’t work that way.” Bones gets a tricorder and begins to do readings.
“You can come stay in my room and observe me then,” he says simply. Bones visibly tenses, which is so damn frustrating. What the hell happened? Jim wishes he knew so he’d be able to fix it. All he’s been trying to do is figure out how to make this thing with Bones work in these new circumstances of being Captain and CMO with a crew constantly around and to maybe even make things better.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Captain.” Bones is gripping the tricorder tightly and refusing to look at Jim, which means he's probably lying. If so, that means he wants to go to Jim's cabin but doesn't want to admit it. Jim has a degree in Bones' speak, even if there are some areas that he hasn't mastered yet, so he decides to try a new strategy.
“Then I’ll be forced to have a majority of the crew come here to see me, throughout the entire twenty-four hour period. They can crowd up medical, traipse through and cause disorder and chaos while speaking with me.”
“I’m not letting you blackmail me, Jim.”
“Think of it as motivation, not blackmail. You know that I can be the biggest pain in your ass if I’m focused. Don’t make me focus, Bones.”
“Damn it, Jim.”
“Besides, you need rest, too, so you can relax on my sofa and monitor me for a day. It’s a win-win situation.”
“On your sofa?” Bones looks at him closely, as if Jim’s going to pounce on him as soon as they’re alone. While he wouldn’t mind having that aspect of their relationship back, especially the kissing because he really misses that, he is sore and tired, so it’s not like he’s in any condition to seduce Bones at the moment.
“It’s more comfortable than the floor, though you’re welcome to relax there if you prefer.” He shifts slightly on the bed and makes a face. “I need to piss. That’s something I can do on my own, I hope?”
“You’ll need help getting to the toilet. Your legs are healing, so it’ll be another day or two before they’re strong enough to hold all of your weight again.” Bones runs his hand over his face before he looks at Jim. He knows that he's won this round before Bones even speaks. “Don’t make me regret this, Jim.”
“I just want my own bed, and I’ll do whatever you say to get me back on my feet and on the bridge as soon as possible,” he tells him honestly. He might bend a few of the rules, depending on what they are, but not any that could interfere with the healing process.
Bones snorts. “Yeah, right. Do whatever I say? I can see that happening,” he mutters. “Come on. Let’s get you to the toilet then I’ll finish up here so we can take you to your bed and get you settled in comfortably. I’m serious about you needing rest right now.”
“I get it. Besides, it isn’t like you wouldn’t just knock me out with a hypospray if I don’t listen,” he points out. His legs are definitely sore, more than he expects. Bones has an arm around him, and he leans against him for support, not even groping or able to enjoy the closeness when it feels like his legs are being poked by a lot of needles all at once.
“Alright?” Bones asks quietly as he leads him around the curtain. Fortunately, there aren’t many members of staff on duty, so Jim doesn’t have to worry about witnesses to his weakness right now. He does wish that he was wearing something other than his undershirt and boxers, however, when one of the nurses gives him a look that makes him feel like a piece of meat.
“Protect me from that the brunette if she attacks,” he mumbles as he inhales the familiar scent of Bones.
“I think you’re safe, Captain.” Bones sounds amused, which is normally a good thing but is just irritating today.
“Hmph. I’m a catch.” He’s glad when they reach the toilet, even if it’s humiliating that he has to continue leaning against Bones while he pisses. He really, really hates this, being dependent on someone and unable to take care of himself. He should be glad that Bones is here, since he’s the only person that Jim doesn’t usually mind depending on, but it’s still not a lot of fun to go through this. Stupid damn planet with its stupid rock-looking beasts with their stupid big teeth.
After he washes his hands, he looks in the mirror above the lavatory and grimaces. His face is still somewhat puffy, there are circles beneath his eyes, and his lips are dry and cracked. No wonder Bones was amused at the notion the nurse was eyeing him over. He looks like shit, even if he’s actually looked worse before. No bruises or broken nose this time, at least.
“Stop admiring your pretty face, Jim. We need to get the examination done and you back into bed,” Bones says dryly. “You don’t want to be on your feet for too long yet.”
“Not so pretty,” he points out as he stops the water. “Did I have any visitors while I was knocked out? Need to know who's seen me like this.”
Bones grips his chin lightly and turns his face towards him. “You’re gorgeous, and you know it,” he murmurs, looking at Jim in a way he hasn’t in more weeks than Jim can count. He starts to sway forward, and Jim tilts his head slightly, needing this more than anything else he can think of, but then Bones stops and drops his hand and looks conflicted.
Damn it. “Bones, what--“
“Not now, Jim,” Bones says gruffly. It’s always ‘not now’, whenever Bones actually bothers to say anything in reply. “Visitors. Well, Scotty came by to see you, brought you a bottle of that fuel he calls whiskey. Gaila came by with the kid, mentioned something about baking whenever they can get access to the kitchen. Murtaugh came by a couple of times, all guilty and worried. A few others from your landing crew. Spock’s been by every few hours for status reports, but I think he’s using that as an excuse to check on you. He’s just weird.”
“See? It isn’t blackmail. I had that many visitors while unconscious, so it’s not like I was lying about there being people coming to see me,” he says, too worn out to argue about Bones and almost kisses and avoidance right now.
“It’s still blackmail,” Bones grumbles before he covers a yawn. He looks as tired as Jim feels, and it really takes a lot not to reach out to stroke the back of his neck and his hair in the way Jim knows relaxes him.
“We should go now or people might start talking about how long it takes me to use the toilet.” He curls his fingers into his palms to keep from touching. He’s pushed enough lately, and this isn’t the time or place to do more of it.
“Yeah, don’t want them talking,” Bones agrees with a frown. “I’ve been here since you were brought in, so Chapel can oversee things for a while. I’ll get your vitals recorded then we can go to your room.”
“Sounds good, Doctor,” he tells him as they leave the bathroom. “How long is it going to be before I can walk without my legs feeling like they’re wrapped around porcupines?”
“I really didn’t need that visual, Captain.” He doesn’t even have to look at Bones to know that he’s making a face. Bones becomes all doctor-serious. “Is it a lot of pain? Where does it seem to be originating from?”
“It’s just soreness mostly. I figure the worst of it is from where the bites were. I’ve had skin knitted together before, and it usually feels like this. I just haven’t ever had it done on such a large area before,” he says with a shrug. “I need to talk to Spock about the report to Starfleet, make sure he told them that the planet is inhabited by carnivorous beasts that seem to like the taste of human flesh.”
“I somehow doubt that the commander left that out of the report.” Bones is most likely rolling his eyes again, but Jim doesn’t look over to find out. “You can talk to Spock tomorrow, after your observation period has concluded.”
Jim grumbles but doesn’t press the point. If he pisses Bones off, he’ll be stuck in medical for the few days of recovery time, which would be even worse than being confined to his quarters. After Bones gets his readings and documents the file, he wanders off, presumably to speak with Chapel about leaving. Jim sits up on the bed, idly rubbing his fingers against his upper thigh as he stares at the bandages on his lower legs. He can remember Bones telling him that there were five bites the first time he woke up, a couple of days ago, and he’s trying to remember exactly what happened that day on Scorching Monotony.
“Alright. Chapel’s in charge while I do observation off-site,” Bones says, interrupting Jim’s attempts to remember every bite.
“And get some sleep,” Jim adds. Bones looks like he needs a shower and a shave, too, but he doesn't mention that yet. “If you can force me to relax and recover, then I can force you to get some rest, too. I can’t have my CMO dead on his feet, after all.”
“I’m not dead on my feet. I got some sleep earlier,” Bones mutters. He reaches behind Jim and is holding some kind of robe when he pulls back. “You’ll probably want to put this on before we go. While I doubt that you’d care if your crew saw you walking around in your boxers, it’s not entirely professional.”
“I wouldn't want the crew to see me walking around like this, not when I'm their boss. Don’t I have pants to put on?” he asks, making a face when he looks at the robe.
“We had to cut them off when you were brought in. Besides that, I’d rather not put anything constricting on your legs. Your body is still healing itself, and I’d just be more comfortable if you didn’t wear pants for another day or two.”
“I could make some witty quip about that, you know?” he points out before he takes the robe. “You not wanting me to wear pants and all. I won’t, though, because it’d just make you grumpy.”
“I’m not grumpy,” Bones denies. “But don’t make one anyway.”
“Now you’re lying. You get grumpy, and you know it.” Jim puts the robe on, glad that it’s at least a man’s robe and not some frilly pink thing. Bones helps him stand up again, and he bites the inside of his cheek when Bones leans down.
“I’m relieved that you’re awake and still alive, asshole,” Bones growls, warm puffs of breath against Jim’s ear. He straightens and glares. “Now be quiet while I get you to your room.”
“I’m only going to be quiet because I’m not feeling particularly great,” Jim tells him. He can’t help smiling, though, because Bones growled and he cares. And now Jim’s going to have him in his room for twenty-four hours of observation, which means Jim can observe, too, and maybe even push, just a little.
End
#1: Scorching Monotony | #3: Observation Period
Pairing: Kirk/McCoy
Summary: Jim wakes up, and Bones does his doctory thing
Rating: Teen/PG13
Word Count: 3660
A/N: #2 in the Two Men & a Starship series. Follows #1: Scorching Monotony. Thank you to everyone who reads/comments! ♥
The medical bay smells better than hospitals, but it still isn’t anywhere that Jim wants to spend a lot of time. Well, unless it’s hanging out with Bones in his office. That’s different than being stuck lying in bed staring at the ceiling overhead. He’s only been awake for a few minutes, but he’s ready to leave now. The smell of antiseptic is stronger than anything else in the air, and he feels a twist in his belly when he notices that the scent of Bones seems to have mostly faded away. He’s alone again, and, to be perfectly blunt, it sucks.
Also, there’s pain, which doesn’t help improve his mood. His legs are sore, his head hurts, and his face hurts, which is different than before. When he woke up earlier, it was just his legs and a headache, so something must have spread while he was knocked out from that damn hypospray. If anyone was around, he’d ask, but, from his position on his back, he can see that there’s a curtain pulled around his bed, and he can’t hear anyone moving on the other side of it. They probably forget about him. Not like Bones cares enough to sit with him, obviously.
He frowns at that thought and glares up at the ceiling, which makes his face hurt more. Bones is CMO, so it’s not like he can just drop everything to sit around waiting for Jim to wake up. He knows this, but it doesn’t make it any easier to wake up alone and hurting. If he didn’t feel so groggy, maybe he wouldn’t care as much. No, that’s a lie. He’d still care because Bones is pushing him away and confusing him, and Jim’s still holding onto the fact that they make their own sort of sense. It isn’t over until he and Bones say it is, and no one’s said that yet. But does Bones not being here say it without needing the words?
“Damn it, Jim. You need to wake the fuck up.” The hoarsely whispered words are coming from the bottom of the bed.
“Bones?” He cringes at how horrible he sounds. Also, why the hell does talking hurt his throat?
“Jim?” Bones suddenly appears in his line of vision, standing up from near his left foot. He looks as bad as Jim feels. He walks to the top of the bed and puts his hand on Jim’s forehead. The warm touch feels good, and Jim’s eyelashes flutter as he swallows a few times, trying to get his mouth wet. “You were starting to scare me, you asshole.”
“M’face feels weird,” he says, staring at Bones unashamedly. It’s been weeks since he’s had the opportunity to do so, and he’s not above taking advantage of the situation, regardless of how sore he is right now.
“Don’t worry. You’re still pretty,” Bones murmurs as he gently strokes his fingers along the curve of Jim’s cheek. He clears his throat and drops his hand, which is disappointing. “I’ve had to add another allergy to your chart. There’s something in the hypospray that we gave you during the time we were working on your legs that you didn’t react to properly. It’s been added to your record, along with the dozen or more other things already listed there.”
“Don’t,” he mutters, frowning as he watches Bones. “Not CMO now. Just Bones.”
“I’m always the CMO, just like you’re always the captain,” Bones points out gruffly. “The allergic reaction caused inflammation in your face and throat. It’s fine now, but there’s probably still some soreness.”
Jim sighs and raises his hand from the bed, reaching out to touch Bones’ arm. “Why?” he asks, blaming the medications in his system for not having any sort of filter at the moment. That doesn’t explain his normal lack of one, but it’s a good enough excuse right now.
Of course, Bones ignores the question, pretending that he doesn’t know what Jim’s really asking. “You’ve been out for forty hours. I--we were starting to get really concerned,” Bones says, but Jim can hear the underlying worry beneath the ‘competent doctor’ tone.
“No wonder I feel so groggy.” He tightens his grip on Bones’ arm when he realizes that Bones hasn’t moved away. “How’re my legs?”
“Sore but fine. We were able to get the toxin out of your system before any real damage could be done, and we knitted the skin back together. It doesn’t look that great yet, while it heals, but there won’t be any permanent scarring.” Bones runs his fingers through his hair and his shoulders slump. “What were you thinking, Jim?”
“About how good you feel pressed against me when you’re naked,” he says matter-of-factly. Just because Bones doesn’t want to discuss them doesn’t mean he’s going to steer clear of the subject. “Oh, you don’t mean right now, do you?”
“Bastard,” Bones grumbles, but he doesn’t look away, which has to be a good sign. Right? “You know what I mean.” Jim doesn’t point out that Bones obviously knows what he means, too, because he doesn’t feel up to an argument.
“My priority is to keep my crew safe. I did that.” Jim shifts and sits up slightly, noticing the chair at the foot of his bed when he’s in this new position. There’s a squashed up pillow in it, an almost empty glass of water, some wrappers from nutritional supplements, and a blanket. He looks up at Bones. “You slept there.” It isn’t a question.
“As CMO, my priority is to keep the captain safe,” he says simply. He licks his lips and shifts his weight from one foot to another. “I wanted to be here to examine you when you woke up. The rest of the staff is extremely capable, but the captain is the CMO’s primary responsibility.”
“Justification,” he whispers as he studies Bones’ face. He can understand it since the staff isn’t likely to think it’s odd for the CMO to be focused on the captain’s recovery. Still, he knows that it’s more than that. Bones sees him as Jim first and foremost. That hasn’t changed.
Bones stares at him in that intense way of his and shrugs a shoulder. “Maybe,” he finally says. It’s enough for now because it means that he still cares, regardless of all the recent confusion and avoidance bullshit. Not that Jim ever really doubted that. It’s one of the reasons that he hasn’t been able to figure out what Bones’ issues are because it’s obvious to Jim that there is still something between them, the emotions and attraction and all that baffling stuff.
“Can I leave now?” He pulls on a thread of the blanket covering him and looks at Bones hopefully. His throat is sore, but it doesn't really hurt to talk, and he can remember feeling worse in the past, so this isn't too bad. “I feel better, so I don’t really need to be taking up a bed or anything.”
“Damn it, Jim. You were poisoned and bitten by some alien beasts, and you had an allergic reaction to medication that nearly killed you when your airway was swollen. On top of that, you were out for over twice the standard amount of time for the sedative.” Bones shakes his head. “I have to check your vitals, and we need to monitor you for at least twenty-four hours.”
“I need to get back to work. If I’ve been out that long, it means that Spock’s probably getting too comfortable with being acting captain. I need to go to the bridge to remind him who’s boss and to get my chair back,” Jim says, playing slightly dirty by mentioning Spock because he knows that Bones still hasn’t let down his guard around the Vulcan. It’s a slight point of contention between them, the fact that Jim’s open to developing some sort of friendship with the man that Bones blames for Jim nearly getting killed. While that’s true, Jim thinks their styles balance well for the good of the ship, and that’s more important than personal grievances. Bones just hasn’t seen things his way yet, is all.
“No,” Bones says firmly. “It’s going to be twenty-four hours of observation then at least forty-eight to seventy-two hours of rest. You nearly lost your right leg, you idiot. If it had been even an hour later before you returned to the Enterprise, the toxins would have probably killed you. I won’t remove you completely from duty unless you push me, but I wouldn’t recommend pressing your luck this time, Captain.”
“Being stuck doing nothing for two or three days is removing me from duty, Doctor,” Jim says more sharply than he planned.
“No, it’s making sure that you don’t do anything to fuck yourself up even more,” Bones tells him tightly. “You can still be captain from your quarters, but I’m not releasing you to go back to the bridge yet. No arguments.”
“There’s nothing to do in my quarters,” he whines, deciding to try a different approach before he gets frustrated and says something he’ll regret. “All the fun stuff is on the bridge. Not even if I promise to just sit in the chair and boss people around?”
Bones rolls his eyes. “No, and if you don’t shut up, I won’t even release you to your quarters because I’m starting to wonder if I can even trust you to rest there. It might be best to keep you here under constant supervision.”
“Damn it,” he mutters crossly. “I don’t want to stay here.”
“Then stop being a baby and accept that I know what I’m talking about when it comes to a decent recovery time,” Bones snaps at him. “I didn’t get made CMO for my charming personality and good looks, after all.”
Jim glances up at him and sighs. “I like your looks and personality, but, no, they’re not why you’re here now.”
“Jim, someone could come in at anytime and overhear you,” Bones points out quietly, some of his annoyance fading from his tone. “You need to be more careful about what you’re saying.”
“Right. Secrets.” He smiles wryly and moves the blanket, staring at his bandaged legs. “Can I return to my quarters now?”
“The initial observation needs to be done here. You can’t be alone and be observed. It doesn’t work that way.” Bones gets a tricorder and begins to do readings.
“You can come stay in my room and observe me then,” he says simply. Bones visibly tenses, which is so damn frustrating. What the hell happened? Jim wishes he knew so he’d be able to fix it. All he’s been trying to do is figure out how to make this thing with Bones work in these new circumstances of being Captain and CMO with a crew constantly around and to maybe even make things better.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Captain.” Bones is gripping the tricorder tightly and refusing to look at Jim, which means he's probably lying. If so, that means he wants to go to Jim's cabin but doesn't want to admit it. Jim has a degree in Bones' speak, even if there are some areas that he hasn't mastered yet, so he decides to try a new strategy.
“Then I’ll be forced to have a majority of the crew come here to see me, throughout the entire twenty-four hour period. They can crowd up medical, traipse through and cause disorder and chaos while speaking with me.”
“I’m not letting you blackmail me, Jim.”
“Think of it as motivation, not blackmail. You know that I can be the biggest pain in your ass if I’m focused. Don’t make me focus, Bones.”
“Damn it, Jim.”
“Besides, you need rest, too, so you can relax on my sofa and monitor me for a day. It’s a win-win situation.”
“On your sofa?” Bones looks at him closely, as if Jim’s going to pounce on him as soon as they’re alone. While he wouldn’t mind having that aspect of their relationship back, especially the kissing because he really misses that, he is sore and tired, so it’s not like he’s in any condition to seduce Bones at the moment.
“It’s more comfortable than the floor, though you’re welcome to relax there if you prefer.” He shifts slightly on the bed and makes a face. “I need to piss. That’s something I can do on my own, I hope?”
“You’ll need help getting to the toilet. Your legs are healing, so it’ll be another day or two before they’re strong enough to hold all of your weight again.” Bones runs his hand over his face before he looks at Jim. He knows that he's won this round before Bones even speaks. “Don’t make me regret this, Jim.”
“I just want my own bed, and I’ll do whatever you say to get me back on my feet and on the bridge as soon as possible,” he tells him honestly. He might bend a few of the rules, depending on what they are, but not any that could interfere with the healing process.
Bones snorts. “Yeah, right. Do whatever I say? I can see that happening,” he mutters. “Come on. Let’s get you to the toilet then I’ll finish up here so we can take you to your bed and get you settled in comfortably. I’m serious about you needing rest right now.”
“I get it. Besides, it isn’t like you wouldn’t just knock me out with a hypospray if I don’t listen,” he points out. His legs are definitely sore, more than he expects. Bones has an arm around him, and he leans against him for support, not even groping or able to enjoy the closeness when it feels like his legs are being poked by a lot of needles all at once.
“Alright?” Bones asks quietly as he leads him around the curtain. Fortunately, there aren’t many members of staff on duty, so Jim doesn’t have to worry about witnesses to his weakness right now. He does wish that he was wearing something other than his undershirt and boxers, however, when one of the nurses gives him a look that makes him feel like a piece of meat.
“Protect me from that the brunette if she attacks,” he mumbles as he inhales the familiar scent of Bones.
“I think you’re safe, Captain.” Bones sounds amused, which is normally a good thing but is just irritating today.
“Hmph. I’m a catch.” He’s glad when they reach the toilet, even if it’s humiliating that he has to continue leaning against Bones while he pisses. He really, really hates this, being dependent on someone and unable to take care of himself. He should be glad that Bones is here, since he’s the only person that Jim doesn’t usually mind depending on, but it’s still not a lot of fun to go through this. Stupid damn planet with its stupid rock-looking beasts with their stupid big teeth.
After he washes his hands, he looks in the mirror above the lavatory and grimaces. His face is still somewhat puffy, there are circles beneath his eyes, and his lips are dry and cracked. No wonder Bones was amused at the notion the nurse was eyeing him over. He looks like shit, even if he’s actually looked worse before. No bruises or broken nose this time, at least.
“Stop admiring your pretty face, Jim. We need to get the examination done and you back into bed,” Bones says dryly. “You don’t want to be on your feet for too long yet.”
“Not so pretty,” he points out as he stops the water. “Did I have any visitors while I was knocked out? Need to know who's seen me like this.”
Bones grips his chin lightly and turns his face towards him. “You’re gorgeous, and you know it,” he murmurs, looking at Jim in a way he hasn’t in more weeks than Jim can count. He starts to sway forward, and Jim tilts his head slightly, needing this more than anything else he can think of, but then Bones stops and drops his hand and looks conflicted.
Damn it. “Bones, what--“
“Not now, Jim,” Bones says gruffly. It’s always ‘not now’, whenever Bones actually bothers to say anything in reply. “Visitors. Well, Scotty came by to see you, brought you a bottle of that fuel he calls whiskey. Gaila came by with the kid, mentioned something about baking whenever they can get access to the kitchen. Murtaugh came by a couple of times, all guilty and worried. A few others from your landing crew. Spock’s been by every few hours for status reports, but I think he’s using that as an excuse to check on you. He’s just weird.”
“See? It isn’t blackmail. I had that many visitors while unconscious, so it’s not like I was lying about there being people coming to see me,” he says, too worn out to argue about Bones and almost kisses and avoidance right now.
“It’s still blackmail,” Bones grumbles before he covers a yawn. He looks as tired as Jim feels, and it really takes a lot not to reach out to stroke the back of his neck and his hair in the way Jim knows relaxes him.
“We should go now or people might start talking about how long it takes me to use the toilet.” He curls his fingers into his palms to keep from touching. He’s pushed enough lately, and this isn’t the time or place to do more of it.
“Yeah, don’t want them talking,” Bones agrees with a frown. “I’ve been here since you were brought in, so Chapel can oversee things for a while. I’ll get your vitals recorded then we can go to your room.”
“Sounds good, Doctor,” he tells him as they leave the bathroom. “How long is it going to be before I can walk without my legs feeling like they’re wrapped around porcupines?”
“I really didn’t need that visual, Captain.” He doesn’t even have to look at Bones to know that he’s making a face. Bones becomes all doctor-serious. “Is it a lot of pain? Where does it seem to be originating from?”
“It’s just soreness mostly. I figure the worst of it is from where the bites were. I’ve had skin knitted together before, and it usually feels like this. I just haven’t ever had it done on such a large area before,” he says with a shrug. “I need to talk to Spock about the report to Starfleet, make sure he told them that the planet is inhabited by carnivorous beasts that seem to like the taste of human flesh.”
“I somehow doubt that the commander left that out of the report.” Bones is most likely rolling his eyes again, but Jim doesn’t look over to find out. “You can talk to Spock tomorrow, after your observation period has concluded.”
Jim grumbles but doesn’t press the point. If he pisses Bones off, he’ll be stuck in medical for the few days of recovery time, which would be even worse than being confined to his quarters. After Bones gets his readings and documents the file, he wanders off, presumably to speak with Chapel about leaving. Jim sits up on the bed, idly rubbing his fingers against his upper thigh as he stares at the bandages on his lower legs. He can remember Bones telling him that there were five bites the first time he woke up, a couple of days ago, and he’s trying to remember exactly what happened that day on Scorching Monotony.
“Alright. Chapel’s in charge while I do observation off-site,” Bones says, interrupting Jim’s attempts to remember every bite.
“And get some sleep,” Jim adds. Bones looks like he needs a shower and a shave, too, but he doesn't mention that yet. “If you can force me to relax and recover, then I can force you to get some rest, too. I can’t have my CMO dead on his feet, after all.”
“I’m not dead on my feet. I got some sleep earlier,” Bones mutters. He reaches behind Jim and is holding some kind of robe when he pulls back. “You’ll probably want to put this on before we go. While I doubt that you’d care if your crew saw you walking around in your boxers, it’s not entirely professional.”
“I wouldn't want the crew to see me walking around like this, not when I'm their boss. Don’t I have pants to put on?” he asks, making a face when he looks at the robe.
“We had to cut them off when you were brought in. Besides that, I’d rather not put anything constricting on your legs. Your body is still healing itself, and I’d just be more comfortable if you didn’t wear pants for another day or two.”
“I could make some witty quip about that, you know?” he points out before he takes the robe. “You not wanting me to wear pants and all. I won’t, though, because it’d just make you grumpy.”
“I’m not grumpy,” Bones denies. “But don’t make one anyway.”
“Now you’re lying. You get grumpy, and you know it.” Jim puts the robe on, glad that it’s at least a man’s robe and not some frilly pink thing. Bones helps him stand up again, and he bites the inside of his cheek when Bones leans down.
“I’m relieved that you’re awake and still alive, asshole,” Bones growls, warm puffs of breath against Jim’s ear. He straightens and glares. “Now be quiet while I get you to your room.”
“I’m only going to be quiet because I’m not feeling particularly great,” Jim tells him. He can’t help smiling, though, because Bones growled and he cares. And now Jim’s going to have him in his room for twenty-four hours of observation, which means Jim can observe, too, and maybe even push, just a little.
End
#1: Scorching Monotony | #3: Observation Period