Fic: "Crossfire" (4/19)
Title: "Crossfire, Part 4"
Author: Mijan
Series: ST: XI
Character/Pairing(s): Kirk&McCoy, Pike, Scotty
Rating: PG-13
Author’s Notes: This story is part of the Academy-era story arc, which includes “Convergence” and “And All the King’s Men.” “Crossfire” is a direct sequel. Several things in this story will not make sense unless you’ve read AAtKM first.
Summary: Jim Kirk and Leonard McCoy are on top of the world at the academy until it all comes crashing down around them. Trapped in their own mystery of politics, sabotage, and possible murder, it quickly becomes impossible to know who to trust. Worse, Jim might still be a target. With a dangerous criminal on the loose and Academy leadership not doing enough, Jim and Bones have to get their lives back together and find out what happened... before it happens again.
*********
CROSSFIRE, Part Four
"Bones... Tambe... the engines... sabotage..."
Jim was groaning in his sleep again, and it was all Leonard could do not to let himself get his hopes up that it was an actual sign of progress. Jim had spent part of the day back in surgery, having nerve reconstruction done on his lower spine, and the rest of the day being wheeled from one therapeutic treatment to another. Leonard knew it was just as well that Jim hadn’t been awake for any of it, really, but dammit, he just wanted the kid to wake up.
On any other Friday night, he and Jim might be out at a local bar for a couple of drinks and some easy relaxation. Or maybe Jim would be getting ready for a weekend training drill, and Leonard would be working an extra clinic shift. Or maybe... something else. Anything else. Instead, Leonard was back at Starfleet Medical, sitting by Jim's bedside, and was reaching over to take Jim's hand again.
He'd spent the better part of the evening telling Jim random stories, playing holovids, and even reading homework assignments aloud from Jim's course catalogue. Occasionally, Jim would shift uncomfortably in his sleep, mumbling to himself, but there was nothing coherent.
Years of psych courses told Leonard that his own behavior was bordering on self-punishment, but he didn't particularly give a damn at the moment. It was also selfish - he needed the reassurance of seeing Jim for himself, hearing the steady beep of the monitors, watching the rise and fall of Jim's chest.
"Easy, Jim. Rest easy." He swallowed against the tightness in his throat, watching Jim's eyes flutter without any real sign of awareness, trying to remember that Jim might or might not be able to hear him. For all he knew, the kid was still tightly locked in his own nightmares. Still, Leonard kept on. "It's okay, kid. You're safe. You're at Starfleet Medical."
"No... Tambe. Gotta check... engines. Shouldn't be there, Tambe. Bones... Bones..."
For the past few hours, Jim's consciousness level had cycled up and down, each time climbing slightly higher. It was a good sign, but still, there was no way to know when he'd finally break through. Leonard was determined to be there when it happened. "I'm here, Jim. I've got you." He'd repeated those words so many times, and he'd keep repeating them until Jim could consciously answer him.
"Bones... said... don't come... crying..."
Of all the things Jim kept repeating in his delirium, that was the worst, and it cut like a knife each time. Leonard just squeezed Jim's hand a little bit tighter. "I shouldn't have said that, Jim. I didn't mean it like that. You can always come to me." He sighed. "I just wish you would now."
Jim's eyes fluttered. Blinked. Then, just slightly, Jim turned his head. For a moment, his eyes focused. "Bones?"
In a heartbeat, Leonard's mouth went dry. "Jim?" He leaned closer. "Are you there, kid? Can you see me?"
Jim blinked a couple more times, eyes swimming in and out of focus, then slowly, confusion bled into panic. "Bones!" The exclamation was weak but drenched in raw anxiety. "Bones, where am I? The shuttle... I was... what was I doing? Where am I?"
The surge of relief that Jim might actually be aware this time was immediately dulled by the biobed monitors that started beeping faster. "Jim, you're at Starfleet Medical. You crashed, but we got you out. You're okay. You just need to relax.”
"I... Starfleet Med..." He looked down at himself, taking in the equipment attached to him, the monitors and therapeutic devices, and his eyes went wide. "How did... why am I... what happened? I was on the shuttle... shuttle with..." He shook his head, looking blank and confused, but starting to tremble. The monitors flashed, letting Leonard know that the duty nurse and doctor had been notified of a change in the patient's status. Jim kept talking, unaware that the alarms had been triggered. "Bones... Bones, I can't remember. What happened?"
"There was a crash, Jim." He threaded his fingers through Jim's, squeezing, hoping to anchor Jim through the confusion of waking up. "There was a crash, but it's okay. They got you out."
Jim shook his head weakly. "Got me out? No... there was... someone else. Someone else in the shuttle... Bones? Why can't I remember?"
"You're on pain meds. That will make your head a bit fuzzy." He wasn't about to tell Jim about the severity of his head injuries just now, or about how Jim’s memory gaps were making him worry. "Relax, kid. You'll remember more as -"
"No! It's not... not like..." He shook his head again. "Not safe. I need to get out of here."
Leonard felt his own surge of fear; Jim was actually awake this time, but he wasn't lucid. Not really. And of the many ways a head trauma patient could wake up, this was a known possibility - confusion and panic. "Oh no you don't, kid. You're not going anywhere." Goddammit, where's that other doctor? "You're perfectly safe, and you'll be absolutely fine, as long as you don't move."
Normally, when Leonard used that tone of voice, he could get Jim to comply with just about anything. Normally, he could get Jim to calm down whenever he got some insane notion through his notoriously hot head. Normally, as much as Jim hated doctors, the kid would relax and behave rationally if Leonard was there to keep him in line.
There was nothing normal about this. In fact, telling Jim not to move seemed to have the exact opposite effect.
With a clumsy lurch, Jim tried to sit up, only to cry out in pain and shock as his body was suddenly immobilized by the stabilization field over the biobed. It was supposed to support him and keep him from moving too far so that he wouldn’t cause further damage to his spine while it healed, but Jim didn’t know that, and he tried to free himself again. Another alarm rang out as Leonard scrambled to get a hold of Jim, on any place that wasn’t already damaged, hoping that human contact might be more soothing than an invisible force field.
"Jim! You've got to stop! You're going to hurt yourself if you keep struggling!"
"NO! They can't keep me here... Bones, let me go!" He jerked again, held back by both Leonard's shaking hands and the force field. "Why am I tied down?"
"You're not tied down! Look at me, Jim. Look at me." For a moment, Leonard thought he'd made eye contact, and that Jim might listen. "You hurt your back. You can't jostle around until it's healed more. The force field is just there to help you hold still so it won't get worse."
Jim blinked, then started shaking his head. "How did I... did I do something stupid?"
Leonard cringed at the raw confusion on Jim’s face. Yes, he was awake, but he was so far from lucid that he was barely there. "No, kid. I told you, there was a crash. You just -"
Jim's eyes went wide. Wild. "No. No no nonono... it's wrong... wasn't just a crash. It was... was sabotage, Bones." He broke eye contact and started to struggle again. "Sabotage! Someone else... attacked... sabotage..."
This was getting out of hand, and for every calm thing Leonard tried to say, Jim only seemed to resist more. His movements were weak and clumsy, and he had no chance of breaking the tolerance limits of the field, but the exertion was more than his body was ready to handle. The nurse finally burst through the door, followed seconds later by the duty doc. Leonard looked back over his shoulder, refusing to take his hands from Jim's arms. "It's about goddamned time! Where the hell were you?"
Jim flinched at his sudden outburst, almost cowering against the pillow, and Leonard shot him what he hoped was a soothing look as he brushed a hand softly across Jim's cheek before turning back to glare are the new arrivals again.
The other doctor - Carlson, if he remembered, not that he cared - shook her head apologetically. "I was with a patient on the other side of the ward."
"Then next time you can't respond to an alarm fast enough, send someone who can, or I'm taking over Kirk's care officially!" He spared the nurse a nod, both grateful and infuriated, as she came around to the other side of the biobed and helped to hold Jim down in the hopes that human restraint would cause him less panic than the force field. Jim wasn't taking well to any of this, and redoubled his still-weak efforts to break free of the stabilization field, gasping and groaning in pain.
Carlson just shook her head again, rapidly checking through scan readings. "He's semi-lucid, but his spine is still too unstable. If he keeps struggling, he's going to damage himself further." Her voice was detached, distracted. "Nurse Kumar, twenty-five milligrams of tetroxazepam. That should give us enough time to reassess him."
"Yes, doctor."
The nurse hurried to the supply cabinet, and Leonard vaguely wondered if they really needed to use something so strong on Jim when he'd only just woken up. However, Jim wasn't really all there yet, and his own struggling was putting him at immediate risk for further injury, and Leonard knew it. Even as Leonard continued to mumble reassurances, Jim was rapidly becoming less coherent. Or, at least, he seemed to be less coherent. His words, broken and choked though they might be, were highly focused... sabotage, engine problems, paranoia that he wasn't safe there - the pain meds can trigger paranoia sometimes, Leonard tried to reassure himself - and goddammit Jim remembered Tambe.
Then Doctor Carlson tried to step between Leonard and Jim.
"McCoy, maybe you should leave until he's stable again."
Leonard glared at her. "I'll leave when Klingons are cuddly, and not a moment -"
Jim gave a sudden lurch. "Don't leave! Bones... don't... don't leave me here. Gotta get... out of here!" He turned his head as Nurse Kumar returned, holding a syringe. "What... what's that..."
"Just something to help you sleep, dear." She twisted the syringe into the port on the IV line and slowly began pressing the plunger. "This won't hurt."
Jim's eyes flashed from her face to her hands, then traced the long plastic tube to the point where it was embedded in his own hand. "No... no, stop... don't want... need to remember... I don't... Bones, make 'er stop... Bones!" He made a move as if to reach for the IV, and Leonard had no doubt he meant to yank it out of his own vein, but the stabilization field only gave him a few centimeters of movement.
He knew that Jim's panic would be over in a moment as he succumbed to the sedative, but the wild fear in Jim's eyes was painful to see. The last thing the kid would have remembered clearly was the horrific crash, and then, at most, brief flashes of the emergency beam-out and the chaos that followed. Delirious, in pain, not really able to understand what was happening to him... it was no wonder the kid was fighting everything like this. Maybe the nurse and Carlson were knowledgeable medical professionals, but they didn't know Jim.
All but elbowing Carlson out of the way, Leonard covered the IV in Jim's hand with his own hand, blocking it from Jim's line of sight, then put his other hand on Jim's cheek. "Dammit, Jim, look at me. Nobody's trying to hurt you. We're trying to help you. Remember - you go out and beat yourself to a pulp playing the hero, and I'm here to patch you back together, right?"
Jim nodded warily.
"Good. That's what we're trying to do. So relax, tough guy. Take a deep breath - no, stop that. Don't look at her, look at me. You're fine. We're doing what we can to patch you up. I'm here, and I'm not leaving, okay?"
"I... okay..." He blinked once, then again. "Sleepy. Why?"
"Because sleep is good for you, kid."
For a split second, the corner of Jim's mouth almost twitched a smile. "Thank... thanks, Bones." Then he frowned. "Stay?" The word was drenched in sleep now, and a quick glance to the side let Leonard know that the nurse had almost finished administering the sedative. He turned back, and gave Jim the most sincere look he could muster.
"I'll stay."
A few seconds later, Jim's eyes were shut, and Leonard slowly released Jim's hand and stood upright, feeling much older than he was.
"No, you won’t stay.”
Leonard snapped around at the sound of Doctor Carlson's voice. "Excuse me, but what?"
She blew out an exasperated breath, her mouse-brown ponytail bobbing as she shook her head and folded her arms over her chest. "McCoy, you might think you're helping your friend, but you know as well as I do that sometimes it's an added stress for a patient when they're waking up."
Leonard shook his head incredulously. "Are you kidding? Carlson, normally you'd be right, but you don't know Jim. And someone has to look out for him who does."
"I'm aware that I don't know Cadet Kirk personally," she started, carefully, "I have no doubt that you know Jim extremely well, and that your presence will be vital to his recovery. But in the meantime, put yourself in my shoes. What would you do if you had a patient with severe head trauma and other injuries who was having a rough time regaining consciousness... and the patient's friend or family member was driving himself up a wall, stressing out by the patient's bedside?"
Like hitting a brick wall, Leonard's intended tirade stalled out on his tongue. Locking eyes with a very determined doctor who was facing him down, her arms still folded firmly over her chest, all Leonard could do was grunt noncommittally.
"Listen... Leonard..." Her stance softened just a bit. "He's out cold, and he will be for another three hours at least. I need to do a thorough reassessment and a neural scan, and I'd like to run another regen session on his spine so maybe we can get him out of the stabilization field sooner, before he wakes up again, if possible... and I don't need you in the way. Go for a walk. Take a hot shower. Go to the gym and spend some time with a punching bag. But get yourself out of this hospital, mind and body, for a couple of hours. Okay?"
Leonard wanted to argue. He wanted to tell her that he'd promised Jim that he was staying, and he wasn't going anywhere other than perhaps a quick trip to the bathroom or maybe to the doctor's lounge for some more coffee, but the look in her eyes caused his argument to fall flat before it began. He recognized that look, and he had to respect it. Here's a doc I'd want on my staff, he mused absently. “Fine,” he growled, giving her a moment of eye contact before turning away and grabbing his bag. “I’ll be back though.”
A gentle hand fell on his shoulder. “Of course.”
Startled, but not put off by her unexpected display of empathy, he reached up and patted her hand awkwardly in reply, before hurrying out the door without a single glance back.
*********
The wind was chilly against Leonard’s bare legs as he sat on the dock at the edge of Crissy Field on the East Campus. Salty water sprayed up against his feet as waves crashed against the pilings. Across the bay, he could just barely see Starfleet Medical, but he made a point not to look at it. He could see the lights on the Golden Gate Bridge through the thin evening fog, and he gazed towards it, past it, and into the darkness. He’d walked here across the bridge, trying to clear his head, letting his feet take him where they would. Of course he was coming back to the dock. He’d spent plenty of evenings sitting on that dock, sometimes with Jim, sometimes alone. The sound of the wind and waves was soothing.
He glanced down at the communicator in his hand. Technically, Jim had woken up, however briefly. He’d planned to call Captain Pike when the kid came around, but Jim was back out for the count. He’d be unconscious for a least a little while longer. Maybe an hour. Two? Less? Really, Leonard had lost track of time. Maybe he’d call Pike later, when he went back to check in on Jim. Maybe he’d call sooner. As much as he wanted to be alone, he was feeling a sort of isolation he hadn’t expected.
Jim was a fixture in his life now. He’d accepted that fact. Embraced it. Had just somehow figured that it would always be that way, and couldn’t quite imagine it changing. Jim would be there to wake him up in the middle of the night for ridiculous adventures, convince him to have a bit of fun no matter how much he protested, and keep him from becoming too horribly cynical of an old bastard. Leonard grumbled, Jim laughed; that’s how it worked, and it felt like they were both better for it. And after what Jim had done last year - goddammit, it was almost a year ago - Leonard was convinced that maybe the kid really was born under an unusual star, if not a particularly lucky one.
And then, there was Jim - laid out on the trauma room table, barely alive, and either the luckiest sonofabitch in the quadrant, or the least fortunate humanoid who’d ever tread on Terran soil. Leonard wasn’t sure which was true. Or maybe luck had nothing to do with it, and it was just the way the universe seemed to work for Jim.
“The universe is indifferent. It doesn’t care about you or Cadet Kirk.” Toland had said that to him once. Sure, it was a sensible perspective in the grand scheme of things, but with Jim, he was really having a hard time believing it.
A large wave crashed against the pilings and sent a cold splash of water against the soles of his feet. A deep shiver ran up his spine.
Maybe he should go to one of the campus cafes and get something warm to drink. Maybe he should head to his dorm and get some sleep. Maybe he should walk back to Starfleet Medical now, in hopes that a round trip over the Bridge by foot would be enough to clear his head. Maybe he actually should call Pike -
“Is this seat taken, son?”
Leonard startled so hard that he had to grip the edge of the pier to quell the sensation that he was going to fall into the bay. “Pike!” He cleared his throat. “Uh, Captain Pike... what are you... I mean...”
Pike waved him off with a humourless chuckle as he sat down on the pier, dangling his feet, shoes and all, over the edge alongside Leonard’s bare feet. Leonard was surprised to see him in civilian clothes, but he supposed at that hour of the night, most normal people had actually changed out of work attire. Most of them, if they weren’t nocturnal, were actually asleep. Pike was awake, but he had deep circles under his eyes and looked like he should have been asleep hours ago. “I called Starfleet Medical for an update on Kirk, and they told me he’d started to come around, but…” His voice trailed off.
Leonard nodded slowly. “It wasn’t pretty.”
“I’m sure it wasn’t.” His sigh was lost in the darkness. “I hope you’ll forgive the invasion of privacy, but I tracked your comm signal to find you.”
Leonard shrugged awkwardly. “You’re the Commandant of Cadets. I’m a cadet. You have every right to track my location.”
“McCoy…” There was a note of frustration there, and Pike pressed the heels of his hands into his thighs, hunching his shoulders in a gesture of discomfort that didn’t seem to suit him. “If you want to look at it that way, be my guest, but I’d hoped you’d caught on to the hint that I’m trying to help you and Kirk as much as I can… and that I don’t violate my cadets’ privacy without a damned good reason.”
Fighting the uncomfortable twist in his stomach, Leonard clenched his fists and looked sideways at Pike. “I know, sir. It’s been a long few days, and I’m probably not my usual charming self.”
Pike laughed dryly. “That makes two of us, McCoy. That makes two of us.”
“So,” Leonard started, not wanting to waste time on small talk, “you don’t track down your cadets without a reason. What’s your reason this time, Captain?”
“This time, it’s simple. I wanted to know how you’re handling this.”
Leonard couldn’t help it. He laughed, and it was a sound drenched with incredulity and exhaustion. There was nothing simple about Pike, and he highly doubted that was the only thing going through the man’s head at the moment. Still, it was a starting point. "How I'm handling this?" he asked, pouring every bit of scepticism into the question that he could. "Off the record?"
"Do you see me wearing a uniform right now?" Pike's voice was calm and open; a clear invitation to speak freely.
Blowing out a heavy sigh through pursed lips, Leonard scrubbed his face harshly with his hands before replying. "I'm surviving, like Jim. I guess that's what we do."
"You do that better than most people would in your shoes." There was a distinct tone of respect there, and Leonard appreciated it.
"Not much else we can do. And flying blind-" Leonard flinched at his own choice of phrasing. "- isn't helping." He gritted his teeth, then looked down at his hands in his lap, pale outlines in the shadows. There was so little he could do right now. Couldn't help Jim. Couldn't solve anything. Had no idea what was going on behind the scenes. "Sir, with this being off the record, how about a clue as to what's going on?"
Something in Pike's eyes darkened. "I wish I could tell you, McCoy, and this time, I mean it differently."
"Oh?" He didn't like the sound of that.
"I've been removed from the investigation."
For a moment, the roar of the wind seemed to block out everything else, until Leonard realized it was the rush of blood in his ears. He wasn't quite sure why, but instinctively, he knew that Pike being removed from the investigation was bad news. "Why's that, sir?"
"I'm too close to Kirk. His academic advisor. I recruited him. Knew his parents." It didn’t sound like the whole answer.
"But Jim isn't being investigated himself, is he?"
Pike grimaced, and it was an ugly thing. "I can only guess, but right now, it's wide open." He shook his head to himself. "The thing is, when I lost access to the investigation, they still hadn't found any evidence of foul play, and without evidence -"
“What do you mean, without evidence? They collected the wreckage. They’ve got the sensor data. Surely they’ve got all the evidence they need.”
Pike’s frown deepened. “The shuttle didn’t just crash, McCoy. It exploded. Vaporized. There wasn’t much left, and what there is... is little more than shrapnel.”
“Well, dammit,” Leonard growled. "So how the hell are they going to run the investigation if there’s nothing left?"
"Engineers and physicists have their ways, I'm sure."
"Yeah, they do," Leonard said in a low tone, thinking of Lieutenant Scott and wondering what the man had learned. "So do doctors."
Pike nodded slowly. "I'm sure you do. But McCoy..." He hesitated, and hesitation didn't sit right on a man like Pike.
"What, sir?"
"Let me tell you something. Something to consider."
Leonard didn't like where this was going. Not at all. Still, he tipped his head, waiting.
"I had a pretty rough assignment or two as a lieutenant," Pike began carefully. "Saw some ugly things. Got sent to some places that make the worst myths of hell sound like a vacation. Almost had my leg taken off in a bad landing party mission. Watched one of the women on my team get torn limb from limb that day." He let out a harsh laugh. "Just to let you know - a cave is NOT always a good place to wait out an ion storm until the transporters can punch through."
Leonard swallowed uneasily. "I'll remember that."
Pike nodded. "Well, to make a very long story much too short, by the time that tour was over, I'd almost wished I'd taken some leave. It probably would have been smarter of me, but hey, when we're young, we think we're immortal, don't we?"
"Jim sure does."
"What about you?"
The question was so casual that it caught Leonard off-guard, and he looked up sharply. The wind gusted, sending a deep shiver up his spine. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"McCoy,” Pike said heavily, “You were taking on a heavy load this semester even before this happened. You’re up to your neck right now.”
“And I can keep afloat just fine.”
“Really?” Pike let out a slow breath. “Do you need to go on leave?"
"What?" Leonard shook his head as if trying to dislodge the idea from his brain before it could stick. "No, sir. No. I've got work to do, classes I don't want to fall behind in. Besides, what the hell am I supposed to do? Sit around and find a chair to rock in?"
"Whatever it takes for you to keep yourself healthy. And McCoy, I don't just mean physically." Pike leaned on one elbow and looked at Leonard sideways. "Even the strongest people can only take so much."
"So you think I need to go hide from this?"
Pike shook his head. "There’s a difference between hiding and giving yourself time to catch your breath. What I'm trying to say, son, is that you and Kirk went through a bit of hell last year. You're both lucky to be alive, and even though you two managed to keep it quiet around campus, you can't erase it from your own memory. You can only take so much before you need a break."
Leonard felt himself bristle at the suggestion. After being told to step away from Jim’s bedside, now someone was suggesting that he ought to step away from everything. It was a slap across the face. Whether because he refused to accept the idea that he couldn't handle it, or because he didn't want to be sent away, he wasn't sure, but he didn't like it. "I don't need a break," he said roughly. "I need to earn my commission and restart my career. Other than that, I'm fine."
"You're hardly fine, McCoy. I'm not blind, and I didn't make it this far through the command structure without learning a few things about what makes people tick."
“And you know what makes me tick, sir?” Leonard cut sharply, not even bothering to stifle the sarcasm.
“More than most cadets, but you can’t blame me for paying attention to some of the Academy’s best and brightest. I pay attention to Kirk, too, in case you hadn’t noticed. But as worried as I am about him, right now, it’s you that’s got me concerned.”
"Really now?" Leonard couldn't quite stifle the incredulity. "Because from where I'm sitting, I'm fine, and Jim is the one we need to worry about."
"And from where I'm sitting, I see a different picture." Pike's tone was hard, and he wasn't going to back down. "Leonard McCoy, you'd turn the world on its head for Jim Kirk. Tell yourself that this isn't why you're sitting on the pier in the middle of the night, freezing your tail off, and pretending you aren't compulsively looking across the bay towards Starfleet Medical."
Leonard opened his mouth, but there were no words. Pike was too damned smart, and too damned good at how he played it. He gritted his teeth, clenching his fingers into the cold wood of the pier to ground himself.
"Come on, McCoy. What do you really need?"
He felt his throat tighten a bit. "I need Jim to walk out of that hospital, healthy and whole."
Finally, Pike's expression softened. "I know you do, son. And until he does, I know you won't be okay either."
Maybe it was the sudden chill from another blast of water against his feet. Maybe it was the sheer exhaustion finally catching up with him. Hell, maybe it was the fact that Pike was right, whether he liked it or not. Whatever it was, Leonard felt something inside him surrender. "I won't take leave," he said, trying to keep his voice level, "but I’ll take care of myself. And Jim."
"Then that will have to be good enough. I’ll help you if I can, but I can’t make promises. I'd say to stay out of trouble, but that can be difficult when you're friends with Jim Kirk."
"Wouldn't have it any other way."
"I know." Leonard looked over at Pike, and even in the shadows, couldn’t help but notice an odd look on his face, as if he’d been holding something back the whole time, and was still considering whether or not to say it. Letting out a heavy breath, Leonard leaned on his knees. “Now are you going to tell me why the Commandant of Cadets is really sitting on a freezing cold pier in the middle of the night?”
For a split second, Pike wasn’t able to hold back his own look of surprise, and Leonard caught a brief and bitter hint of victory.
“See, Captain? You’re not the only one who knows a thing or two about what makes people tick.”
Pike’s expression of surprise quickly melted into a mirthless laugh. “You’re a sharp one, McCoy. You’re right… I did have another reason for coming out here. I wasn’t sure I was going to ask you though.”
“Why not?”
Pike shrugged. “I wanted to see how you were doing before I started digging.”
Leonard nodded grimly. “Well, you know now. And you’re here. I’m here. So ask.”
Twisting slightly so that he was facing Leonard more directly, Pike’s face suddenly became deadly serious. The change in tension caught Leonard off-guard, and he sat up straighter, hooking one knee on the pier so that he was looking Pike dead-on. The man’s face was a foreboding silhouette of deep shadows.
For a damnable length of time, Pike said nothing, then in an undertone so low Leonard had to lean closer to hear him over the wind, and said, "I may no longer be part of the investigation… but there are some games going on around here. I can smell it."
“What kind of games, sir?” Leonard asked distantly, not really sure he wanted an answer.
Pike hesitated again. "Listen, I can’t say a word, but I’m still looking into things. And I’ve got my sources. What I want to know is… has Kirk pissed anyone off lately? To the point where they would put him in danger, even if they didn’t necessarily want to kill him?"
“I don’t know… I mean… I…” Leonard stammered. “I don’t think so, but…”
A few thoughts began to simmer in Leonard's mind. There were the cadets he'd outscored - but most of the cadets seemed to like and respect Jim, even if he was stiff competition. There were instructors who Jim had shown up in class... but that was insane. No cadre at the academy would ever think of doing something that would intentionally put a cadet at risk...
It was like a slap across the face, and in a rush, the events of the previous year came flooding back. A training gone wrong, a dark past remembered, and the catastrophe that resulted when they tried to fix it... "No. That's not... that Terra Prime could have done this? No." He shook his head. “Jim’s name was never released, and they never identified us. There’s no way they could have traced it back... infiltrated the Academy like that. Is there?”
Pike’s face was an icy mask. “That’s a really long stretch, McCoy. Is there anyone else? Anyone at all?”
“I… I can’t think of anyone,” Leonard said loosely, unable to dislodge the deeply disturbing idea that was rapidly becoming entrenched in his mind. “Is there any evidence? Do you think it could be Terra Prime?”
Pike didn't say yes, but he didn't say no. No hint of a nod, no shake of the head. The man wasn't giving up anything, and McCoy made a mental note never to challenge him to a game of poker. "I just needed to know if you could think of anyone who was a possible threat to Kirk. That’s all. Draw your own conclusions if you need to, but don’t get caught up in it. I need to go do some hunting." His face twisted into a grimace. "This isn't over."
No, it's not, Leonard thought bleakly. Not by a long shot. He'd only been fearing for Jim's physical recovery. It hadn't occurred to him that the aftermath of the crash could have more sinister repercussions. While he had a good sense that Pike was going to do everything he could for Jim, it seemed obvious that even the experienced Captain was gearing up for a fight, and it was going to be ugly.
But before Leonard could push for any more information, Pike’s cold expression morphed back into the look of sympathy that he’d been wearing earlier.
“I think we’ve had just about enough of that,” he said casually, reaching out an resting a warm hand on Leonard's shoulder. "Besides, I’m from the desert, and it’s freezing out here. So how about I bring you back to Starfleet Medical. Let you check on Kirk. And then, Leonard, you go get some sleep."
Leonard watched Pike's face carefully for a moment. Despite his sudden shift in demeanor, there was true sincerity there. It was sincerity cracked with fatigue, stress, worry, and a touch of anger, but it was as honest as Leonard had seen in a long time. He glanced over Pike's shoulder at the lights of Starfleet Medical, barely breaking through the fog over the bay, then finally looked back at Pike. “Okay.”
*********
The steps up to the main door of Starfleet Medical were cold and windswept, feeling much like Leonard himself felt at the moment. Pike's personal transport was pulling away, a faint hum in the background as Leonard stepped back into the too-bright lights of the main entrance. A nod to the security checkpoint, a flash of an ID badge, and a turbolift to the ICU. Footsteps down the corridor - his own, then another pair.
"McCoy."
"Doctor Carlson, how is he?"
"Showing signs of waking up again, actually. We gave him a very mild dose of isospirone about a half-hour ago, so it should go a bit more smoothly this time."
"Thank you," he said, and he meant it. That drug wouldn't make Jim feel drowsy, but it should help ward off the potential for another panic attack, even if the kid were to wake up disoriented. It might even give Leonard a chance to talk to him.
"I also authorized you for supportive care management," Carlson continued. "You won't be his lead doctor, but you can take care of him. Somehow, I think it would be good for both of you, and he'd give you less of a fight."
"Oh, he fights with me tooth and nail when I try to get him to take care of himself, but I'm used to it." Leonard felt himself smiling. "It lets me know he's okay."
Doctor Carlson smiled back. "Go on. Be there when he wakes up."
The door to Jim's room was already opened, so Leonard slipped through and peeked around the curtain. If Jim was waking up, he didn't want to startle him. However, Leonard found himself startled to see Jim's eyes fully opened. The kid was sagged against his pillows at a deep reclining angle, looking tired, but he was definitely fully conscious. Leonard's immediate relief was that he wasn't panicking at all. Even more pleasing was that it was obvious that the stabilization field had been deactivated - Jim's spine must have been deemed stable enough for that. Those were the good signs. However, Jim’s mouth was twisted into a frown, eyebrows deeply furrowed, as he was poking at the IV line in his hand. Worried that the kid was going to try to yank it out again, Leonard took a deep breath and slowly stepped around the edge of the curtain.
"Jim?"
Bright blue eyes snapped up, briefly startled. Jim stopped poking at his hand, and something like a tattered smile slowly warmed his features. "Hey, Bones."
For the first time in three days, something tightly wound in Leonard's stomach finally released. He wanted to collapse into the chair next to Jim's bed and let out a world of stress and worry all at once, but years of medical training held him back. He might have been deeply worried, but Jim had been critically injured. He didn't want to overwhelm the kid, not yet, so he stayed at the foot of the bed. Still, he couldn't keep the smile off his own face. "Welcome back, Jim. How're you feeling?"
His smile faded. "Been better. Obviously."
"Mind if I come in?" Leonard knew he didn't need to ask, but he wanted to give Jim some sense of control.
"You're kidding, right?" Jim looked at him incredulously, gesturing towards the chair next to the bed. "I was wondering where you were. You... uh..." His gaze fell, and he stared at the blanket he'd begun twisting between his fingers. "You said you'd stay."
Guilt rose in Leonard's throat. He didn't think it would have been possible for Jim to remember after the sedative they'd given him. Nobody else would have remembered, but then, Jim wasn't like anyone else; after he'd argued that exact thing to Doctor Carlson, he had no right to assume something so careless about his best friend. He shouldn't have gone for such a long walk. Should have waited for Jim right there.
"I'm sorry," he said, easing himself into the chair. He wanted to lie and say he'd just been out of the room, getting some coffee, going to the bathroom, or taking a shower in the staff locker room, but he couldn't lie. Not to Jim. "Doctor Carlson is the lead doctor on your case right now, and technically my superior. She told me I should leave for a little while while they checked you over, and she was probably right. I thought you'd still be asleep, and I needed some fresh air and some thinking."
"I understand," Jim said, but his voice was flat.
"No, kid, you don't understand, and you shouldn't have to. That's not your responsibility right now. I should have been here."
He finally glanced back up, with something lost and wistful hiding in his gaze. "Then tell me, Bones." He blinked owlishly. "I had you that worried, didn't I." It wasn't a question.
"Yeah, you did," Leonard admitted. "I don't know how much you remember, but you woke up in a bit of a panic."
Jim was suddenly looking everywhere around the room that wasn't Leonard. "I remember," he said dryly. "Sorry about that. But yeah, I remember a lot." His gaze fell. "Not enough though."
Slowly, Leonard reached over and rested a hand on Jim's arm. He couldn't help but notice that Jim flinched, just slightly. "Kid, with all you've been through, it's amazing that you remember anything. Some people wouldn't know their own name if they were sitting in your position."
"I know, Bones," came the quiet reply. “I’m grateful for that.” He finally glanced back up. "I remember that you were there."
Leonard sucked in a sharp breath, withdrawing his hand. He hoped that didn't mean what he thought it did. "You mean when you woke up just a little while ago?"
Slowly, Jim shook his head. "When I first arrived."
Like a brick settling in his stomach, Leonard's fears were confirmed. "You remember what happened in the trauma ward."
"Not exactly," he said with a shrug. His voice sounded distant. "I remember... noise. Voices... a lot of lights... people everywhere. My head hurt. Everything hurt. But I knew you were there. I could hear you."
Leonard wanted to burst out in sympathy, railing against the horrible care Jim must have received to have been aware of anything during such a horrible trauma. He wanted to rip apart the lousy attending physician who had permitted such a thing to happen. He'd tear that guy up one side and down the other, questioning everything from the validity of his medical license to the legitimacy of his parentage. And he was damn well going to find a mirror later and do exactly that.
"Jim, you shouldn't have remembered any of that. I'm sorry that you did." Leonard hesitated, but he knew that partial memories from incomplete sedation could be worse for patients than learning the whole thing. "Listen, if you need to ask anything about what was happening... I can answer any questions you might have."
Jim said nothing for a moment, staring across the room blankly, eyes glassy, and Leonard started to worry that he was going to slip back into unconsciousness.
"Jim? You still with me?"
"I'm here, Bones." His eyes slowly drooped shut, then fluttered open again. "I'm just... you know. Overwhelmed."
"Yeah. I know." He wished he didn't know.
"Can I leave now?"
The question startled Leonard so much that he did a double-take. "What? Jim, I know you think you're indestructible, but no, you can't leave! Are you out of your daredevil mind?"
Jim flinched, then glanced up. "I don't feel right here, Bones. I..." His voice trailed off, and his lips pinched together pensively.
"Come on, kid. Tell me. It's okay."
Jim looked at him skeptically for a moment, then sighed. "Bones, everything's kinda fuzzy right now. I... I can't think straight. But I know that if someone sabotaged the shuttlecraft... I mean... what if I'm not safe?"
Leonard raised an eyebrow. This wasn't Jim. Fear wasn't a consideration for the Jim Kirk he'd come to know over the past year. Granted, the kid had probably never felt so vulnerable in his life. And even a mild concussion was enough to leave a person feeling fuzzy-headed for a few days, so it was absolutely expected that Jim would have some cognitive trouble for at least a few weeks, if not a few months. He just hoped that he’d be on the mend sooner, rather than later.
At the same time... he wondered if Jim’s fears weren’t actually unfounded.
Affecting what he hoped was a reassuring look, Leonard leaned forward on the edge of the biobed. "That's why I'm here, Jim. I'm going to watch out for you until you're back on your feet - which, by the way, will be a whole lot sooner if you relax. And believe me, even if I wasn't here... Starfleet Medical is one of the safest places in the quadrant."
Jim squirmed slightly against his pillows. "They drugged me."
It was all Leonard could do not to keep his mouth from falling open in dismay. "Jim, I’m sorry about that. I really am. But we did need to give you a sedative. You were panicking. You weren't fully awake yet, and they were trying to keep you from hurting your back again."
"Then they should have listened to me, instead of drugging me." There was an odd look in Jim's eye - a bit like a cornered animal - and Leonard was instantly aware of how tenuous Jim’s lucidity really was. "I was remembering, Bones. I wanted her to stop because I'd remembered something... and now I've forgotten again. I need to remember what I saw, Bones. It's there... like a big blank spot where... where something important should be." He let out a growl of frustration that fizzled into a weak groan. It looked all wrong on Jim Kirk.
Swallowing tightly, Leonard fought to keep a neutral expression. "You'll remember again. It's all part of the recovery process. You need to give it time."
"Time?" The word was laced with truncated hysteria, shrouded in fake incredulity. "How the hell can I give it time, when... when the person who did this is... out there? Sure,” he said, his tone biting and sarcastic, “I've got all the time in the world, Bones."
"Jim..."
"I can sit and wait while... while Tambe's killer is out there." His gaze sharpened, and for a moment, it almost looked like Jim was back. "Nobody would tell me after the crash, but I knew. She wasn't in the transporter room on the Mars Orbiter, and I heard someone say they lost her signal. They didn't get her out, did they?"
"No, Jim. They didn't." He sighed. "But that doesn't mean you should risk your own recovery."
"Well, fuck that," Jim said suddenly. "Get me out of here."
And now, Leonard was sure - no, Jim wasn’t back, and this wasn't going well at all. Paranoia, Leonard thought nervously. He wasn't panicking the way he'd been before, but even if the meds were keeping the raw panic at bay, they couldn't fix the underlying nerves and fears that had Jim wanting to bolt from the hospital. "Jim, try to think through this for a minute. You just woke up from a nasty set of injuries. You need therapy and you need to be watched."
"I feel fine. And you can watch me as well as any of these people can. I trust you. More than them, anyway."
"You’re not fine, Jim!” Leonard forced himself to keep a calm front. He wanted to chastise Jim, and slap him down for his completely irrational behavior and petulance, but he couldn’t. This wasn’t Jim’s fault. This was the result of a human head smashing into the control panel of a shuttlecraft at several hundred kilometers per hour. He shook his own head to himself, and looked at Jim sadly. “Sorry, kid, but you can’t leave for a few more days. I can watch you, sure, but if you want to be back on your feet as soon as possible - and I know you well enough to know that you do - then this is the best place in the quadrant for you to be." He patted the biobed next to Jim's hand. "Hell, Jim, even sitting on a biobed is a hundred times better therapy than I could possibly provide outside of this facility."
"Sitting on a damned bed is therapy? Now I've heard everything."
Leonard frowned at him, trying for the look he often used to get Jim to listen to reason. "Do you think that biobeds are nothing more than cots with sensors? These things generate a field that speeds up your body's cellular division and healing process exponentially. Yes, it's therapy."
“Great. What a convenient reason to keep me stuck here." Jim snorted and folded his arms across his chest, only to wince immediately at the movement.
"And here you go, trying to tell me you don't need help," Leonard grumbled as he stood up and tapped the biobed sensor readout, activating an advanced scanning mode. The scanners told him that nothing was worse, but there was a lot of inflammation from the healing process. "What hurts, Jim? Don't pretend you didn't flinch there."
"I told you, I'm fine."
"Uh-huh. You can lie to anyone else, but not to me." He took a quick peek at the rate the analgesic was being administered. "Do you want me to increase your pain meds?"
For a moment, that cornered, spooked look froze Jim's face. Then he scowled and quickly reached for the back of his left hand. "I'm taking this thing out."
Even more quickly, Leonard caught his hand before he could grab the tube. "Whoa there! If you yank it out, you could rip your own vein. These are designed differently than short-term catheters, and you can’t just pull them."
“Then you take it out.” Jim’s eyes held a wild defiance that told Leonard with almost absolute certainty that if he didn’t, then Jim would.
"I can't do that, kid.” He tightened his grip on Jim’s hand as Jim tried to pull away. “Your other option is getting every therapeutic medication you need via hypospray, and I know how much you hate those. Besides, that's actually not as effective for osteoblast therapy. Somehow, I think you’d prefer to have your bones put back together sooner rather than later." Something in Leonard's chest clenched at the sight of the defiance in Jim's eyes starting to give way to confusion and just a bit of fear. “You need to keep it in for at least another two days, and you need to stay on that biobed.”
"Not. Interested,” he bit out harshly as he tried to pull away again. “I don't want them giving me stuff when I've got no control over it." Jim’s words were rapid and agitated, but a couple of grunts of pain slipped through as he struggled half-heartedly with Leonard. "What if that's making me forget?"
"The drugs they've got you on can't cause any sort of amnesia," Leonard said quickly. "But they'll keep you from being in so much pain that you're incoherent, and trust me, without them, you’d be a wreck. I kinda like you being coherent, Jim. And if you don't stop struggling, the other doctors will come back in here."
Jim stilled instantly, but his body was still tense, like he’d jump at the slightest trigger.
“Listen, Jim... please." He couldn't keep the desperation out of his own voice, and that seemed to get Jim's attention. "You want to run and you want to fight, and I understand that. I want to help you with that. I’m going to help you with that. And there's going to be a time for fighting back, but now... you're not fine, Jim. For God sakes, you almost died in front of me. Do you know what that was like?"
Jim's expression tightened, and for a split second, it looked like there was a hint of moisture threatening his eyes. "Yeah, actually," he said roughly, "I do. In case you forgot."
The tightness in Leonard's chest turned into a heaviness, and he and Jim looked at each other for a long moment, neither one flinching. Their mutual brush with death - and I came a lot closer than Jim that time - almost a year ago at the hands of Terra Prime operatives wasn’t something either of them would soon forget, but it had been their silent agreement not to talk about it. A bond, permanently shared, but left quietly on the shelf. Jim had saved his life that day, and it had been a near thing. No, Jim wouldn’t forget something like that, even if he never spoke of it again.
Finally, Leonard sighed. Cautiously, he released Jim’s hand and took a step back from the bed. He leaned on the arm of the chair, giving Jim the most sincere look he could muster. "I haven't forgotten, Jim." He tilted his head to the side, considering Jim carefully. "And would you have wanted me to leave the hospital before I was ready?" There was no reply, so Leonard pressed on. "And in case you forgot, you kept me from damaging myself irreparably. Dammit Jim, you saved my life. So... let me return the favor, okay?"
It almost looked like Jim was going to argue again, but finally, he sagged back against his pillows. "My head hurts," he said flatly. "And my hips. Shoulder, too."
Relieved for something familiar to do, Leonard reached for the tricorder on the shelf and began scanning. "Well, it's no surprise. You shattered your pelvis and whacked your head pretty badly. Your clavicle was in about seven pieces when we got you. Bones take time to knit, even with osteoblast treatment, and the muscles around the breaks are still healing, too. How's your vision?" Talking to a patient about his medical condition was familiar and comfortable to Leonard, and he felt his own tension ease slightly as he shifted modes.
"I can see just fine." Jim only sounded mildly petulant; it seemed like a good sign.
“Anything else bothering you?”
“I’m stuck in a hospital?” Slightly more petulant, that time. More like Jim.
Leonard hid his own grin. “Besides that, you infant.”
Jim’s eyebrows quirked up hopefully. “I could go for some pizza.”
Leonard snorted as he scanned. “Do you know how many of your organs we put back together? Your digestive system won’t be ready for solid food for another couple of days - not until liver function is back within norms.” And we don’t want you needing to use the bathroom until your pelvis is stable enough to handle the pressure, he thought to himself, but Jim didn’t need to know that much.
“So they’re gonna let me starve?”
Smirking, Leonard tapped the IV stand, holding back a chuckle as Jim groaned dramatically.
“Cruel and unusual, Bones. Cruel and unusual. Hey, beer isn’t solid food, right?”
Leonard gave Jim a bemused smile, hiding the frown that was waiting just beneath the surface. Maybe Jim was perking up, but he knew the kid. This was a coping technique. With the severity of Jim’s disorientation earlier, and his rapid shifts from panic to paranoia to good humor… Jim wasn’t really all there, and probably wouldn’t be for a while.
Head injuries were insidious. Personality shifts, irrational behaviour, and emotional disturbances were just as much symptoms as memory loss. Of course, the more Jim acted like his normal self, the more it would help him recover. But Leonard couldn’t let himself forget how quickly his mood had shifted, and how quickly it could shift back.
Keeping up the lighthearted grin for Jim’s sake, Leonard spent a couple more minutes scanning and poking, as much to reassure himself as to let Jim know that he was looking out for him. Oddly, Jim seemed to relax under his ministrations despite his protests, holding still and answering directly when prompted for information. Finally, Leonard reached for the controls that metered out the cocktail of meds and supplements supporting Jim's body through the healing process. He paused when Jim made a sound that could have been called a whimper, not that Leonard would ever say that to the kid. "Jim?"
Jim blinked a couple of times, then looked away. "Sorry - I don't much like being sedated."
Frowning, Leonard half-sat against the biobed, and waited until Jim looked back up at him to speak. "Jim... I’m adding an anti-inflammatory to your pain meds. I'm not going to sedate you. Not unless your medical condition leaves me no other choice. If you can stay calm and cooperate with me, I can help you recover faster so that you can get out of here sooner. I'd figure that's what you want. And then... I swear to whatever gods in the galaxy will listen, I'll help you get to the bottom of what happened. We'll figure it out. But until then, please kid, just relax and let someone else take care of you for once. Let me take care of you.”
Finally, although warily, Jim nodded. A few moments later, with a slightly higher dose of analgesics, Leonard was satisfied to see some of the tension and pain lines melt away from Jim's shoulders and face. The conversation turned to classes and homework - simple things. Jim asked for his PADD so he could keep up with classes until they released him; Leonard promised to bring it in the morning. They talked about what to do over the semester break. Anything that wasn't the crash or the investigation or...
"Bones?" Jim's tone of voice shifted just enough that Leonard knew he was about to ask something touchy.
"Yes, Jim?"
"Did you watch?"
He didn't have to say anything more - Leonard knew he was talking about the flight recorder feed.
"Yeah, I did. Damn near scared the living daylights out of me."
But Jim shook his head. "That's not what I want to know. I mean... before the engines started to fail... was I good?"
Not for the first time that night, Leonard felt his throat tighten with an unnamed emotion. "Yeah, kid. You were amazing."
Jim blinked at him slowly, then settled back against the pillows more deeply. "Thanks, Bones. I just needed to hear it." He smiled just a bit. "And I needed to know that you watched." Then a wide yawn split his face. "You didn't give me a sedative, did you?"
Smiling softly, Leonard shook his head. "No, Jim." He reached up and smoothed the blankets over Jim's torso.
"Then why the hell am I so sleepy? Haven't I been sleeping for... fuck, I don't even know what day it is."
"It's Friday... sorry, Saturday now. Middle of the night. And you're sleepy because healing takes a lot out of you," Leonard said softly. "Rest, kid. We'll tackle the bigger stuff in the morning."
As Jim drifted off a few minutes later, Leonard sagged back in his chair. Jim was resting in a completely natural sleep for the first time since the crash, he was stable, and now the real recovery could begin. By all rights, the kid shouldn't be alive, but he was, and he was going to make it. A miracle of modern medicine, sheer dumb luck, or some crazy combination of the two - Leonard didn't know which, but he'd take it. The long-held breath could be released.
*********
(To Part Five...)
Author: Mijan
Series: ST: XI
Character/Pairing(s): Kirk&McCoy, Pike, Scotty
Rating: PG-13
Author’s Notes: This story is part of the Academy-era story arc, which includes “Convergence” and “And All the King’s Men.” “Crossfire” is a direct sequel. Several things in this story will not make sense unless you’ve read AAtKM first.
Summary: Jim Kirk and Leonard McCoy are on top of the world at the academy until it all comes crashing down around them. Trapped in their own mystery of politics, sabotage, and possible murder, it quickly becomes impossible to know who to trust. Worse, Jim might still be a target. With a dangerous criminal on the loose and Academy leadership not doing enough, Jim and Bones have to get their lives back together and find out what happened... before it happens again.
*********
CROSSFIRE, Part Four
"Bones... Tambe... the engines... sabotage..."
Jim was groaning in his sleep again, and it was all Leonard could do not to let himself get his hopes up that it was an actual sign of progress. Jim had spent part of the day back in surgery, having nerve reconstruction done on his lower spine, and the rest of the day being wheeled from one therapeutic treatment to another. Leonard knew it was just as well that Jim hadn’t been awake for any of it, really, but dammit, he just wanted the kid to wake up.
On any other Friday night, he and Jim might be out at a local bar for a couple of drinks and some easy relaxation. Or maybe Jim would be getting ready for a weekend training drill, and Leonard would be working an extra clinic shift. Or maybe... something else. Anything else. Instead, Leonard was back at Starfleet Medical, sitting by Jim's bedside, and was reaching over to take Jim's hand again.
He'd spent the better part of the evening telling Jim random stories, playing holovids, and even reading homework assignments aloud from Jim's course catalogue. Occasionally, Jim would shift uncomfortably in his sleep, mumbling to himself, but there was nothing coherent.
Years of psych courses told Leonard that his own behavior was bordering on self-punishment, but he didn't particularly give a damn at the moment. It was also selfish - he needed the reassurance of seeing Jim for himself, hearing the steady beep of the monitors, watching the rise and fall of Jim's chest.
"Easy, Jim. Rest easy." He swallowed against the tightness in his throat, watching Jim's eyes flutter without any real sign of awareness, trying to remember that Jim might or might not be able to hear him. For all he knew, the kid was still tightly locked in his own nightmares. Still, Leonard kept on. "It's okay, kid. You're safe. You're at Starfleet Medical."
"No... Tambe. Gotta check... engines. Shouldn't be there, Tambe. Bones... Bones..."
For the past few hours, Jim's consciousness level had cycled up and down, each time climbing slightly higher. It was a good sign, but still, there was no way to know when he'd finally break through. Leonard was determined to be there when it happened. "I'm here, Jim. I've got you." He'd repeated those words so many times, and he'd keep repeating them until Jim could consciously answer him.
"Bones... said... don't come... crying..."
Of all the things Jim kept repeating in his delirium, that was the worst, and it cut like a knife each time. Leonard just squeezed Jim's hand a little bit tighter. "I shouldn't have said that, Jim. I didn't mean it like that. You can always come to me." He sighed. "I just wish you would now."
Jim's eyes fluttered. Blinked. Then, just slightly, Jim turned his head. For a moment, his eyes focused. "Bones?"
In a heartbeat, Leonard's mouth went dry. "Jim?" He leaned closer. "Are you there, kid? Can you see me?"
Jim blinked a couple more times, eyes swimming in and out of focus, then slowly, confusion bled into panic. "Bones!" The exclamation was weak but drenched in raw anxiety. "Bones, where am I? The shuttle... I was... what was I doing? Where am I?"
The surge of relief that Jim might actually be aware this time was immediately dulled by the biobed monitors that started beeping faster. "Jim, you're at Starfleet Medical. You crashed, but we got you out. You're okay. You just need to relax.”
"I... Starfleet Med..." He looked down at himself, taking in the equipment attached to him, the monitors and therapeutic devices, and his eyes went wide. "How did... why am I... what happened? I was on the shuttle... shuttle with..." He shook his head, looking blank and confused, but starting to tremble. The monitors flashed, letting Leonard know that the duty nurse and doctor had been notified of a change in the patient's status. Jim kept talking, unaware that the alarms had been triggered. "Bones... Bones, I can't remember. What happened?"
"There was a crash, Jim." He threaded his fingers through Jim's, squeezing, hoping to anchor Jim through the confusion of waking up. "There was a crash, but it's okay. They got you out."
Jim shook his head weakly. "Got me out? No... there was... someone else. Someone else in the shuttle... Bones? Why can't I remember?"
"You're on pain meds. That will make your head a bit fuzzy." He wasn't about to tell Jim about the severity of his head injuries just now, or about how Jim’s memory gaps were making him worry. "Relax, kid. You'll remember more as -"
"No! It's not... not like..." He shook his head again. "Not safe. I need to get out of here."
Leonard felt his own surge of fear; Jim was actually awake this time, but he wasn't lucid. Not really. And of the many ways a head trauma patient could wake up, this was a known possibility - confusion and panic. "Oh no you don't, kid. You're not going anywhere." Goddammit, where's that other doctor? "You're perfectly safe, and you'll be absolutely fine, as long as you don't move."
Normally, when Leonard used that tone of voice, he could get Jim to comply with just about anything. Normally, he could get Jim to calm down whenever he got some insane notion through his notoriously hot head. Normally, as much as Jim hated doctors, the kid would relax and behave rationally if Leonard was there to keep him in line.
There was nothing normal about this. In fact, telling Jim not to move seemed to have the exact opposite effect.
With a clumsy lurch, Jim tried to sit up, only to cry out in pain and shock as his body was suddenly immobilized by the stabilization field over the biobed. It was supposed to support him and keep him from moving too far so that he wouldn’t cause further damage to his spine while it healed, but Jim didn’t know that, and he tried to free himself again. Another alarm rang out as Leonard scrambled to get a hold of Jim, on any place that wasn’t already damaged, hoping that human contact might be more soothing than an invisible force field.
"Jim! You've got to stop! You're going to hurt yourself if you keep struggling!"
"NO! They can't keep me here... Bones, let me go!" He jerked again, held back by both Leonard's shaking hands and the force field. "Why am I tied down?"
"You're not tied down! Look at me, Jim. Look at me." For a moment, Leonard thought he'd made eye contact, and that Jim might listen. "You hurt your back. You can't jostle around until it's healed more. The force field is just there to help you hold still so it won't get worse."
Jim blinked, then started shaking his head. "How did I... did I do something stupid?"
Leonard cringed at the raw confusion on Jim’s face. Yes, he was awake, but he was so far from lucid that he was barely there. "No, kid. I told you, there was a crash. You just -"
Jim's eyes went wide. Wild. "No. No no nonono... it's wrong... wasn't just a crash. It was... was sabotage, Bones." He broke eye contact and started to struggle again. "Sabotage! Someone else... attacked... sabotage..."
This was getting out of hand, and for every calm thing Leonard tried to say, Jim only seemed to resist more. His movements were weak and clumsy, and he had no chance of breaking the tolerance limits of the field, but the exertion was more than his body was ready to handle. The nurse finally burst through the door, followed seconds later by the duty doc. Leonard looked back over his shoulder, refusing to take his hands from Jim's arms. "It's about goddamned time! Where the hell were you?"
Jim flinched at his sudden outburst, almost cowering against the pillow, and Leonard shot him what he hoped was a soothing look as he brushed a hand softly across Jim's cheek before turning back to glare are the new arrivals again.
The other doctor - Carlson, if he remembered, not that he cared - shook her head apologetically. "I was with a patient on the other side of the ward."
"Then next time you can't respond to an alarm fast enough, send someone who can, or I'm taking over Kirk's care officially!" He spared the nurse a nod, both grateful and infuriated, as she came around to the other side of the biobed and helped to hold Jim down in the hopes that human restraint would cause him less panic than the force field. Jim wasn't taking well to any of this, and redoubled his still-weak efforts to break free of the stabilization field, gasping and groaning in pain.
Carlson just shook her head again, rapidly checking through scan readings. "He's semi-lucid, but his spine is still too unstable. If he keeps struggling, he's going to damage himself further." Her voice was detached, distracted. "Nurse Kumar, twenty-five milligrams of tetroxazepam. That should give us enough time to reassess him."
"Yes, doctor."
The nurse hurried to the supply cabinet, and Leonard vaguely wondered if they really needed to use something so strong on Jim when he'd only just woken up. However, Jim wasn't really all there yet, and his own struggling was putting him at immediate risk for further injury, and Leonard knew it. Even as Leonard continued to mumble reassurances, Jim was rapidly becoming less coherent. Or, at least, he seemed to be less coherent. His words, broken and choked though they might be, were highly focused... sabotage, engine problems, paranoia that he wasn't safe there - the pain meds can trigger paranoia sometimes, Leonard tried to reassure himself - and goddammit Jim remembered Tambe.
Then Doctor Carlson tried to step between Leonard and Jim.
"McCoy, maybe you should leave until he's stable again."
Leonard glared at her. "I'll leave when Klingons are cuddly, and not a moment -"
Jim gave a sudden lurch. "Don't leave! Bones... don't... don't leave me here. Gotta get... out of here!" He turned his head as Nurse Kumar returned, holding a syringe. "What... what's that..."
"Just something to help you sleep, dear." She twisted the syringe into the port on the IV line and slowly began pressing the plunger. "This won't hurt."
Jim's eyes flashed from her face to her hands, then traced the long plastic tube to the point where it was embedded in his own hand. "No... no, stop... don't want... need to remember... I don't... Bones, make 'er stop... Bones!" He made a move as if to reach for the IV, and Leonard had no doubt he meant to yank it out of his own vein, but the stabilization field only gave him a few centimeters of movement.
He knew that Jim's panic would be over in a moment as he succumbed to the sedative, but the wild fear in Jim's eyes was painful to see. The last thing the kid would have remembered clearly was the horrific crash, and then, at most, brief flashes of the emergency beam-out and the chaos that followed. Delirious, in pain, not really able to understand what was happening to him... it was no wonder the kid was fighting everything like this. Maybe the nurse and Carlson were knowledgeable medical professionals, but they didn't know Jim.
All but elbowing Carlson out of the way, Leonard covered the IV in Jim's hand with his own hand, blocking it from Jim's line of sight, then put his other hand on Jim's cheek. "Dammit, Jim, look at me. Nobody's trying to hurt you. We're trying to help you. Remember - you go out and beat yourself to a pulp playing the hero, and I'm here to patch you back together, right?"
Jim nodded warily.
"Good. That's what we're trying to do. So relax, tough guy. Take a deep breath - no, stop that. Don't look at her, look at me. You're fine. We're doing what we can to patch you up. I'm here, and I'm not leaving, okay?"
"I... okay..." He blinked once, then again. "Sleepy. Why?"
"Because sleep is good for you, kid."
For a split second, the corner of Jim's mouth almost twitched a smile. "Thank... thanks, Bones." Then he frowned. "Stay?" The word was drenched in sleep now, and a quick glance to the side let Leonard know that the nurse had almost finished administering the sedative. He turned back, and gave Jim the most sincere look he could muster.
"I'll stay."
A few seconds later, Jim's eyes were shut, and Leonard slowly released Jim's hand and stood upright, feeling much older than he was.
"No, you won’t stay.”
Leonard snapped around at the sound of Doctor Carlson's voice. "Excuse me, but what?"
She blew out an exasperated breath, her mouse-brown ponytail bobbing as she shook her head and folded her arms over her chest. "McCoy, you might think you're helping your friend, but you know as well as I do that sometimes it's an added stress for a patient when they're waking up."
Leonard shook his head incredulously. "Are you kidding? Carlson, normally you'd be right, but you don't know Jim. And someone has to look out for him who does."
"I'm aware that I don't know Cadet Kirk personally," she started, carefully, "I have no doubt that you know Jim extremely well, and that your presence will be vital to his recovery. But in the meantime, put yourself in my shoes. What would you do if you had a patient with severe head trauma and other injuries who was having a rough time regaining consciousness... and the patient's friend or family member was driving himself up a wall, stressing out by the patient's bedside?"
Like hitting a brick wall, Leonard's intended tirade stalled out on his tongue. Locking eyes with a very determined doctor who was facing him down, her arms still folded firmly over her chest, all Leonard could do was grunt noncommittally.
"Listen... Leonard..." Her stance softened just a bit. "He's out cold, and he will be for another three hours at least. I need to do a thorough reassessment and a neural scan, and I'd like to run another regen session on his spine so maybe we can get him out of the stabilization field sooner, before he wakes up again, if possible... and I don't need you in the way. Go for a walk. Take a hot shower. Go to the gym and spend some time with a punching bag. But get yourself out of this hospital, mind and body, for a couple of hours. Okay?"
Leonard wanted to argue. He wanted to tell her that he'd promised Jim that he was staying, and he wasn't going anywhere other than perhaps a quick trip to the bathroom or maybe to the doctor's lounge for some more coffee, but the look in her eyes caused his argument to fall flat before it began. He recognized that look, and he had to respect it. Here's a doc I'd want on my staff, he mused absently. “Fine,” he growled, giving her a moment of eye contact before turning away and grabbing his bag. “I’ll be back though.”
A gentle hand fell on his shoulder. “Of course.”
Startled, but not put off by her unexpected display of empathy, he reached up and patted her hand awkwardly in reply, before hurrying out the door without a single glance back.
*********
The wind was chilly against Leonard’s bare legs as he sat on the dock at the edge of Crissy Field on the East Campus. Salty water sprayed up against his feet as waves crashed against the pilings. Across the bay, he could just barely see Starfleet Medical, but he made a point not to look at it. He could see the lights on the Golden Gate Bridge through the thin evening fog, and he gazed towards it, past it, and into the darkness. He’d walked here across the bridge, trying to clear his head, letting his feet take him where they would. Of course he was coming back to the dock. He’d spent plenty of evenings sitting on that dock, sometimes with Jim, sometimes alone. The sound of the wind and waves was soothing.
He glanced down at the communicator in his hand. Technically, Jim had woken up, however briefly. He’d planned to call Captain Pike when the kid came around, but Jim was back out for the count. He’d be unconscious for a least a little while longer. Maybe an hour. Two? Less? Really, Leonard had lost track of time. Maybe he’d call Pike later, when he went back to check in on Jim. Maybe he’d call sooner. As much as he wanted to be alone, he was feeling a sort of isolation he hadn’t expected.
Jim was a fixture in his life now. He’d accepted that fact. Embraced it. Had just somehow figured that it would always be that way, and couldn’t quite imagine it changing. Jim would be there to wake him up in the middle of the night for ridiculous adventures, convince him to have a bit of fun no matter how much he protested, and keep him from becoming too horribly cynical of an old bastard. Leonard grumbled, Jim laughed; that’s how it worked, and it felt like they were both better for it. And after what Jim had done last year - goddammit, it was almost a year ago - Leonard was convinced that maybe the kid really was born under an unusual star, if not a particularly lucky one.
And then, there was Jim - laid out on the trauma room table, barely alive, and either the luckiest sonofabitch in the quadrant, or the least fortunate humanoid who’d ever tread on Terran soil. Leonard wasn’t sure which was true. Or maybe luck had nothing to do with it, and it was just the way the universe seemed to work for Jim.
“The universe is indifferent. It doesn’t care about you or Cadet Kirk.” Toland had said that to him once. Sure, it was a sensible perspective in the grand scheme of things, but with Jim, he was really having a hard time believing it.
A large wave crashed against the pilings and sent a cold splash of water against the soles of his feet. A deep shiver ran up his spine.
Maybe he should go to one of the campus cafes and get something warm to drink. Maybe he should head to his dorm and get some sleep. Maybe he should walk back to Starfleet Medical now, in hopes that a round trip over the Bridge by foot would be enough to clear his head. Maybe he actually should call Pike -
“Is this seat taken, son?”
Leonard startled so hard that he had to grip the edge of the pier to quell the sensation that he was going to fall into the bay. “Pike!” He cleared his throat. “Uh, Captain Pike... what are you... I mean...”
Pike waved him off with a humourless chuckle as he sat down on the pier, dangling his feet, shoes and all, over the edge alongside Leonard’s bare feet. Leonard was surprised to see him in civilian clothes, but he supposed at that hour of the night, most normal people had actually changed out of work attire. Most of them, if they weren’t nocturnal, were actually asleep. Pike was awake, but he had deep circles under his eyes and looked like he should have been asleep hours ago. “I called Starfleet Medical for an update on Kirk, and they told me he’d started to come around, but…” His voice trailed off.
Leonard nodded slowly. “It wasn’t pretty.”
“I’m sure it wasn’t.” His sigh was lost in the darkness. “I hope you’ll forgive the invasion of privacy, but I tracked your comm signal to find you.”
Leonard shrugged awkwardly. “You’re the Commandant of Cadets. I’m a cadet. You have every right to track my location.”
“McCoy…” There was a note of frustration there, and Pike pressed the heels of his hands into his thighs, hunching his shoulders in a gesture of discomfort that didn’t seem to suit him. “If you want to look at it that way, be my guest, but I’d hoped you’d caught on to the hint that I’m trying to help you and Kirk as much as I can… and that I don’t violate my cadets’ privacy without a damned good reason.”
Fighting the uncomfortable twist in his stomach, Leonard clenched his fists and looked sideways at Pike. “I know, sir. It’s been a long few days, and I’m probably not my usual charming self.”
Pike laughed dryly. “That makes two of us, McCoy. That makes two of us.”
“So,” Leonard started, not wanting to waste time on small talk, “you don’t track down your cadets without a reason. What’s your reason this time, Captain?”
“This time, it’s simple. I wanted to know how you’re handling this.”
Leonard couldn’t help it. He laughed, and it was a sound drenched with incredulity and exhaustion. There was nothing simple about Pike, and he highly doubted that was the only thing going through the man’s head at the moment. Still, it was a starting point. "How I'm handling this?" he asked, pouring every bit of scepticism into the question that he could. "Off the record?"
"Do you see me wearing a uniform right now?" Pike's voice was calm and open; a clear invitation to speak freely.
Blowing out a heavy sigh through pursed lips, Leonard scrubbed his face harshly with his hands before replying. "I'm surviving, like Jim. I guess that's what we do."
"You do that better than most people would in your shoes." There was a distinct tone of respect there, and Leonard appreciated it.
"Not much else we can do. And flying blind-" Leonard flinched at his own choice of phrasing. "- isn't helping." He gritted his teeth, then looked down at his hands in his lap, pale outlines in the shadows. There was so little he could do right now. Couldn't help Jim. Couldn't solve anything. Had no idea what was going on behind the scenes. "Sir, with this being off the record, how about a clue as to what's going on?"
Something in Pike's eyes darkened. "I wish I could tell you, McCoy, and this time, I mean it differently."
"Oh?" He didn't like the sound of that.
"I've been removed from the investigation."
For a moment, the roar of the wind seemed to block out everything else, until Leonard realized it was the rush of blood in his ears. He wasn't quite sure why, but instinctively, he knew that Pike being removed from the investigation was bad news. "Why's that, sir?"
"I'm too close to Kirk. His academic advisor. I recruited him. Knew his parents." It didn’t sound like the whole answer.
"But Jim isn't being investigated himself, is he?"
Pike grimaced, and it was an ugly thing. "I can only guess, but right now, it's wide open." He shook his head to himself. "The thing is, when I lost access to the investigation, they still hadn't found any evidence of foul play, and without evidence -"
“What do you mean, without evidence? They collected the wreckage. They’ve got the sensor data. Surely they’ve got all the evidence they need.”
Pike’s frown deepened. “The shuttle didn’t just crash, McCoy. It exploded. Vaporized. There wasn’t much left, and what there is... is little more than shrapnel.”
“Well, dammit,” Leonard growled. "So how the hell are they going to run the investigation if there’s nothing left?"
"Engineers and physicists have their ways, I'm sure."
"Yeah, they do," Leonard said in a low tone, thinking of Lieutenant Scott and wondering what the man had learned. "So do doctors."
Pike nodded slowly. "I'm sure you do. But McCoy..." He hesitated, and hesitation didn't sit right on a man like Pike.
"What, sir?"
"Let me tell you something. Something to consider."
Leonard didn't like where this was going. Not at all. Still, he tipped his head, waiting.
"I had a pretty rough assignment or two as a lieutenant," Pike began carefully. "Saw some ugly things. Got sent to some places that make the worst myths of hell sound like a vacation. Almost had my leg taken off in a bad landing party mission. Watched one of the women on my team get torn limb from limb that day." He let out a harsh laugh. "Just to let you know - a cave is NOT always a good place to wait out an ion storm until the transporters can punch through."
Leonard swallowed uneasily. "I'll remember that."
Pike nodded. "Well, to make a very long story much too short, by the time that tour was over, I'd almost wished I'd taken some leave. It probably would have been smarter of me, but hey, when we're young, we think we're immortal, don't we?"
"Jim sure does."
"What about you?"
The question was so casual that it caught Leonard off-guard, and he looked up sharply. The wind gusted, sending a deep shiver up his spine. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"McCoy,” Pike said heavily, “You were taking on a heavy load this semester even before this happened. You’re up to your neck right now.”
“And I can keep afloat just fine.”
“Really?” Pike let out a slow breath. “Do you need to go on leave?"
"What?" Leonard shook his head as if trying to dislodge the idea from his brain before it could stick. "No, sir. No. I've got work to do, classes I don't want to fall behind in. Besides, what the hell am I supposed to do? Sit around and find a chair to rock in?"
"Whatever it takes for you to keep yourself healthy. And McCoy, I don't just mean physically." Pike leaned on one elbow and looked at Leonard sideways. "Even the strongest people can only take so much."
"So you think I need to go hide from this?"
Pike shook his head. "There’s a difference between hiding and giving yourself time to catch your breath. What I'm trying to say, son, is that you and Kirk went through a bit of hell last year. You're both lucky to be alive, and even though you two managed to keep it quiet around campus, you can't erase it from your own memory. You can only take so much before you need a break."
Leonard felt himself bristle at the suggestion. After being told to step away from Jim’s bedside, now someone was suggesting that he ought to step away from everything. It was a slap across the face. Whether because he refused to accept the idea that he couldn't handle it, or because he didn't want to be sent away, he wasn't sure, but he didn't like it. "I don't need a break," he said roughly. "I need to earn my commission and restart my career. Other than that, I'm fine."
"You're hardly fine, McCoy. I'm not blind, and I didn't make it this far through the command structure without learning a few things about what makes people tick."
“And you know what makes me tick, sir?” Leonard cut sharply, not even bothering to stifle the sarcasm.
“More than most cadets, but you can’t blame me for paying attention to some of the Academy’s best and brightest. I pay attention to Kirk, too, in case you hadn’t noticed. But as worried as I am about him, right now, it’s you that’s got me concerned.”
"Really now?" Leonard couldn't quite stifle the incredulity. "Because from where I'm sitting, I'm fine, and Jim is the one we need to worry about."
"And from where I'm sitting, I see a different picture." Pike's tone was hard, and he wasn't going to back down. "Leonard McCoy, you'd turn the world on its head for Jim Kirk. Tell yourself that this isn't why you're sitting on the pier in the middle of the night, freezing your tail off, and pretending you aren't compulsively looking across the bay towards Starfleet Medical."
Leonard opened his mouth, but there were no words. Pike was too damned smart, and too damned good at how he played it. He gritted his teeth, clenching his fingers into the cold wood of the pier to ground himself.
"Come on, McCoy. What do you really need?"
He felt his throat tighten a bit. "I need Jim to walk out of that hospital, healthy and whole."
Finally, Pike's expression softened. "I know you do, son. And until he does, I know you won't be okay either."
Maybe it was the sudden chill from another blast of water against his feet. Maybe it was the sheer exhaustion finally catching up with him. Hell, maybe it was the fact that Pike was right, whether he liked it or not. Whatever it was, Leonard felt something inside him surrender. "I won't take leave," he said, trying to keep his voice level, "but I’ll take care of myself. And Jim."
"Then that will have to be good enough. I’ll help you if I can, but I can’t make promises. I'd say to stay out of trouble, but that can be difficult when you're friends with Jim Kirk."
"Wouldn't have it any other way."
"I know." Leonard looked over at Pike, and even in the shadows, couldn’t help but notice an odd look on his face, as if he’d been holding something back the whole time, and was still considering whether or not to say it. Letting out a heavy breath, Leonard leaned on his knees. “Now are you going to tell me why the Commandant of Cadets is really sitting on a freezing cold pier in the middle of the night?”
For a split second, Pike wasn’t able to hold back his own look of surprise, and Leonard caught a brief and bitter hint of victory.
“See, Captain? You’re not the only one who knows a thing or two about what makes people tick.”
Pike’s expression of surprise quickly melted into a mirthless laugh. “You’re a sharp one, McCoy. You’re right… I did have another reason for coming out here. I wasn’t sure I was going to ask you though.”
“Why not?”
Pike shrugged. “I wanted to see how you were doing before I started digging.”
Leonard nodded grimly. “Well, you know now. And you’re here. I’m here. So ask.”
Twisting slightly so that he was facing Leonard more directly, Pike’s face suddenly became deadly serious. The change in tension caught Leonard off-guard, and he sat up straighter, hooking one knee on the pier so that he was looking Pike dead-on. The man’s face was a foreboding silhouette of deep shadows.
For a damnable length of time, Pike said nothing, then in an undertone so low Leonard had to lean closer to hear him over the wind, and said, "I may no longer be part of the investigation… but there are some games going on around here. I can smell it."
“What kind of games, sir?” Leonard asked distantly, not really sure he wanted an answer.
Pike hesitated again. "Listen, I can’t say a word, but I’m still looking into things. And I’ve got my sources. What I want to know is… has Kirk pissed anyone off lately? To the point where they would put him in danger, even if they didn’t necessarily want to kill him?"
“I don’t know… I mean… I…” Leonard stammered. “I don’t think so, but…”
A few thoughts began to simmer in Leonard's mind. There were the cadets he'd outscored - but most of the cadets seemed to like and respect Jim, even if he was stiff competition. There were instructors who Jim had shown up in class... but that was insane. No cadre at the academy would ever think of doing something that would intentionally put a cadet at risk...
It was like a slap across the face, and in a rush, the events of the previous year came flooding back. A training gone wrong, a dark past remembered, and the catastrophe that resulted when they tried to fix it... "No. That's not... that Terra Prime could have done this? No." He shook his head. “Jim’s name was never released, and they never identified us. There’s no way they could have traced it back... infiltrated the Academy like that. Is there?”
Pike’s face was an icy mask. “That’s a really long stretch, McCoy. Is there anyone else? Anyone at all?”
“I… I can’t think of anyone,” Leonard said loosely, unable to dislodge the deeply disturbing idea that was rapidly becoming entrenched in his mind. “Is there any evidence? Do you think it could be Terra Prime?”
Pike didn't say yes, but he didn't say no. No hint of a nod, no shake of the head. The man wasn't giving up anything, and McCoy made a mental note never to challenge him to a game of poker. "I just needed to know if you could think of anyone who was a possible threat to Kirk. That’s all. Draw your own conclusions if you need to, but don’t get caught up in it. I need to go do some hunting." His face twisted into a grimace. "This isn't over."
No, it's not, Leonard thought bleakly. Not by a long shot. He'd only been fearing for Jim's physical recovery. It hadn't occurred to him that the aftermath of the crash could have more sinister repercussions. While he had a good sense that Pike was going to do everything he could for Jim, it seemed obvious that even the experienced Captain was gearing up for a fight, and it was going to be ugly.
But before Leonard could push for any more information, Pike’s cold expression morphed back into the look of sympathy that he’d been wearing earlier.
“I think we’ve had just about enough of that,” he said casually, reaching out an resting a warm hand on Leonard's shoulder. "Besides, I’m from the desert, and it’s freezing out here. So how about I bring you back to Starfleet Medical. Let you check on Kirk. And then, Leonard, you go get some sleep."
Leonard watched Pike's face carefully for a moment. Despite his sudden shift in demeanor, there was true sincerity there. It was sincerity cracked with fatigue, stress, worry, and a touch of anger, but it was as honest as Leonard had seen in a long time. He glanced over Pike's shoulder at the lights of Starfleet Medical, barely breaking through the fog over the bay, then finally looked back at Pike. “Okay.”
*********
The steps up to the main door of Starfleet Medical were cold and windswept, feeling much like Leonard himself felt at the moment. Pike's personal transport was pulling away, a faint hum in the background as Leonard stepped back into the too-bright lights of the main entrance. A nod to the security checkpoint, a flash of an ID badge, and a turbolift to the ICU. Footsteps down the corridor - his own, then another pair.
"McCoy."
"Doctor Carlson, how is he?"
"Showing signs of waking up again, actually. We gave him a very mild dose of isospirone about a half-hour ago, so it should go a bit more smoothly this time."
"Thank you," he said, and he meant it. That drug wouldn't make Jim feel drowsy, but it should help ward off the potential for another panic attack, even if the kid were to wake up disoriented. It might even give Leonard a chance to talk to him.
"I also authorized you for supportive care management," Carlson continued. "You won't be his lead doctor, but you can take care of him. Somehow, I think it would be good for both of you, and he'd give you less of a fight."
"Oh, he fights with me tooth and nail when I try to get him to take care of himself, but I'm used to it." Leonard felt himself smiling. "It lets me know he's okay."
Doctor Carlson smiled back. "Go on. Be there when he wakes up."
The door to Jim's room was already opened, so Leonard slipped through and peeked around the curtain. If Jim was waking up, he didn't want to startle him. However, Leonard found himself startled to see Jim's eyes fully opened. The kid was sagged against his pillows at a deep reclining angle, looking tired, but he was definitely fully conscious. Leonard's immediate relief was that he wasn't panicking at all. Even more pleasing was that it was obvious that the stabilization field had been deactivated - Jim's spine must have been deemed stable enough for that. Those were the good signs. However, Jim’s mouth was twisted into a frown, eyebrows deeply furrowed, as he was poking at the IV line in his hand. Worried that the kid was going to try to yank it out again, Leonard took a deep breath and slowly stepped around the edge of the curtain.
"Jim?"
Bright blue eyes snapped up, briefly startled. Jim stopped poking at his hand, and something like a tattered smile slowly warmed his features. "Hey, Bones."
For the first time in three days, something tightly wound in Leonard's stomach finally released. He wanted to collapse into the chair next to Jim's bed and let out a world of stress and worry all at once, but years of medical training held him back. He might have been deeply worried, but Jim had been critically injured. He didn't want to overwhelm the kid, not yet, so he stayed at the foot of the bed. Still, he couldn't keep the smile off his own face. "Welcome back, Jim. How're you feeling?"
His smile faded. "Been better. Obviously."
"Mind if I come in?" Leonard knew he didn't need to ask, but he wanted to give Jim some sense of control.
"You're kidding, right?" Jim looked at him incredulously, gesturing towards the chair next to the bed. "I was wondering where you were. You... uh..." His gaze fell, and he stared at the blanket he'd begun twisting between his fingers. "You said you'd stay."
Guilt rose in Leonard's throat. He didn't think it would have been possible for Jim to remember after the sedative they'd given him. Nobody else would have remembered, but then, Jim wasn't like anyone else; after he'd argued that exact thing to Doctor Carlson, he had no right to assume something so careless about his best friend. He shouldn't have gone for such a long walk. Should have waited for Jim right there.
"I'm sorry," he said, easing himself into the chair. He wanted to lie and say he'd just been out of the room, getting some coffee, going to the bathroom, or taking a shower in the staff locker room, but he couldn't lie. Not to Jim. "Doctor Carlson is the lead doctor on your case right now, and technically my superior. She told me I should leave for a little while while they checked you over, and she was probably right. I thought you'd still be asleep, and I needed some fresh air and some thinking."
"I understand," Jim said, but his voice was flat.
"No, kid, you don't understand, and you shouldn't have to. That's not your responsibility right now. I should have been here."
He finally glanced back up, with something lost and wistful hiding in his gaze. "Then tell me, Bones." He blinked owlishly. "I had you that worried, didn't I." It wasn't a question.
"Yeah, you did," Leonard admitted. "I don't know how much you remember, but you woke up in a bit of a panic."
Jim was suddenly looking everywhere around the room that wasn't Leonard. "I remember," he said dryly. "Sorry about that. But yeah, I remember a lot." His gaze fell. "Not enough though."
Slowly, Leonard reached over and rested a hand on Jim's arm. He couldn't help but notice that Jim flinched, just slightly. "Kid, with all you've been through, it's amazing that you remember anything. Some people wouldn't know their own name if they were sitting in your position."
"I know, Bones," came the quiet reply. “I’m grateful for that.” He finally glanced back up. "I remember that you were there."
Leonard sucked in a sharp breath, withdrawing his hand. He hoped that didn't mean what he thought it did. "You mean when you woke up just a little while ago?"
Slowly, Jim shook his head. "When I first arrived."
Like a brick settling in his stomach, Leonard's fears were confirmed. "You remember what happened in the trauma ward."
"Not exactly," he said with a shrug. His voice sounded distant. "I remember... noise. Voices... a lot of lights... people everywhere. My head hurt. Everything hurt. But I knew you were there. I could hear you."
Leonard wanted to burst out in sympathy, railing against the horrible care Jim must have received to have been aware of anything during such a horrible trauma. He wanted to rip apart the lousy attending physician who had permitted such a thing to happen. He'd tear that guy up one side and down the other, questioning everything from the validity of his medical license to the legitimacy of his parentage. And he was damn well going to find a mirror later and do exactly that.
"Jim, you shouldn't have remembered any of that. I'm sorry that you did." Leonard hesitated, but he knew that partial memories from incomplete sedation could be worse for patients than learning the whole thing. "Listen, if you need to ask anything about what was happening... I can answer any questions you might have."
Jim said nothing for a moment, staring across the room blankly, eyes glassy, and Leonard started to worry that he was going to slip back into unconsciousness.
"Jim? You still with me?"
"I'm here, Bones." His eyes slowly drooped shut, then fluttered open again. "I'm just... you know. Overwhelmed."
"Yeah. I know." He wished he didn't know.
"Can I leave now?"
The question startled Leonard so much that he did a double-take. "What? Jim, I know you think you're indestructible, but no, you can't leave! Are you out of your daredevil mind?"
Jim flinched, then glanced up. "I don't feel right here, Bones. I..." His voice trailed off, and his lips pinched together pensively.
"Come on, kid. Tell me. It's okay."
Jim looked at him skeptically for a moment, then sighed. "Bones, everything's kinda fuzzy right now. I... I can't think straight. But I know that if someone sabotaged the shuttlecraft... I mean... what if I'm not safe?"
Leonard raised an eyebrow. This wasn't Jim. Fear wasn't a consideration for the Jim Kirk he'd come to know over the past year. Granted, the kid had probably never felt so vulnerable in his life. And even a mild concussion was enough to leave a person feeling fuzzy-headed for a few days, so it was absolutely expected that Jim would have some cognitive trouble for at least a few weeks, if not a few months. He just hoped that he’d be on the mend sooner, rather than later.
At the same time... he wondered if Jim’s fears weren’t actually unfounded.
Affecting what he hoped was a reassuring look, Leonard leaned forward on the edge of the biobed. "That's why I'm here, Jim. I'm going to watch out for you until you're back on your feet - which, by the way, will be a whole lot sooner if you relax. And believe me, even if I wasn't here... Starfleet Medical is one of the safest places in the quadrant."
Jim squirmed slightly against his pillows. "They drugged me."
It was all Leonard could do not to keep his mouth from falling open in dismay. "Jim, I’m sorry about that. I really am. But we did need to give you a sedative. You were panicking. You weren't fully awake yet, and they were trying to keep you from hurting your back again."
"Then they should have listened to me, instead of drugging me." There was an odd look in Jim's eye - a bit like a cornered animal - and Leonard was instantly aware of how tenuous Jim’s lucidity really was. "I was remembering, Bones. I wanted her to stop because I'd remembered something... and now I've forgotten again. I need to remember what I saw, Bones. It's there... like a big blank spot where... where something important should be." He let out a growl of frustration that fizzled into a weak groan. It looked all wrong on Jim Kirk.
Swallowing tightly, Leonard fought to keep a neutral expression. "You'll remember again. It's all part of the recovery process. You need to give it time."
"Time?" The word was laced with truncated hysteria, shrouded in fake incredulity. "How the hell can I give it time, when... when the person who did this is... out there? Sure,” he said, his tone biting and sarcastic, “I've got all the time in the world, Bones."
"Jim..."
"I can sit and wait while... while Tambe's killer is out there." His gaze sharpened, and for a moment, it almost looked like Jim was back. "Nobody would tell me after the crash, but I knew. She wasn't in the transporter room on the Mars Orbiter, and I heard someone say they lost her signal. They didn't get her out, did they?"
"No, Jim. They didn't." He sighed. "But that doesn't mean you should risk your own recovery."
"Well, fuck that," Jim said suddenly. "Get me out of here."
And now, Leonard was sure - no, Jim wasn’t back, and this wasn't going well at all. Paranoia, Leonard thought nervously. He wasn't panicking the way he'd been before, but even if the meds were keeping the raw panic at bay, they couldn't fix the underlying nerves and fears that had Jim wanting to bolt from the hospital. "Jim, try to think through this for a minute. You just woke up from a nasty set of injuries. You need therapy and you need to be watched."
"I feel fine. And you can watch me as well as any of these people can. I trust you. More than them, anyway."
"You’re not fine, Jim!” Leonard forced himself to keep a calm front. He wanted to chastise Jim, and slap him down for his completely irrational behavior and petulance, but he couldn’t. This wasn’t Jim’s fault. This was the result of a human head smashing into the control panel of a shuttlecraft at several hundred kilometers per hour. He shook his own head to himself, and looked at Jim sadly. “Sorry, kid, but you can’t leave for a few more days. I can watch you, sure, but if you want to be back on your feet as soon as possible - and I know you well enough to know that you do - then this is the best place in the quadrant for you to be." He patted the biobed next to Jim's hand. "Hell, Jim, even sitting on a biobed is a hundred times better therapy than I could possibly provide outside of this facility."
"Sitting on a damned bed is therapy? Now I've heard everything."
Leonard frowned at him, trying for the look he often used to get Jim to listen to reason. "Do you think that biobeds are nothing more than cots with sensors? These things generate a field that speeds up your body's cellular division and healing process exponentially. Yes, it's therapy."
“Great. What a convenient reason to keep me stuck here." Jim snorted and folded his arms across his chest, only to wince immediately at the movement.
"And here you go, trying to tell me you don't need help," Leonard grumbled as he stood up and tapped the biobed sensor readout, activating an advanced scanning mode. The scanners told him that nothing was worse, but there was a lot of inflammation from the healing process. "What hurts, Jim? Don't pretend you didn't flinch there."
"I told you, I'm fine."
"Uh-huh. You can lie to anyone else, but not to me." He took a quick peek at the rate the analgesic was being administered. "Do you want me to increase your pain meds?"
For a moment, that cornered, spooked look froze Jim's face. Then he scowled and quickly reached for the back of his left hand. "I'm taking this thing out."
Even more quickly, Leonard caught his hand before he could grab the tube. "Whoa there! If you yank it out, you could rip your own vein. These are designed differently than short-term catheters, and you can’t just pull them."
“Then you take it out.” Jim’s eyes held a wild defiance that told Leonard with almost absolute certainty that if he didn’t, then Jim would.
"I can't do that, kid.” He tightened his grip on Jim’s hand as Jim tried to pull away. “Your other option is getting every therapeutic medication you need via hypospray, and I know how much you hate those. Besides, that's actually not as effective for osteoblast therapy. Somehow, I think you’d prefer to have your bones put back together sooner rather than later." Something in Leonard's chest clenched at the sight of the defiance in Jim's eyes starting to give way to confusion and just a bit of fear. “You need to keep it in for at least another two days, and you need to stay on that biobed.”
"Not. Interested,” he bit out harshly as he tried to pull away again. “I don't want them giving me stuff when I've got no control over it." Jim’s words were rapid and agitated, but a couple of grunts of pain slipped through as he struggled half-heartedly with Leonard. "What if that's making me forget?"
"The drugs they've got you on can't cause any sort of amnesia," Leonard said quickly. "But they'll keep you from being in so much pain that you're incoherent, and trust me, without them, you’d be a wreck. I kinda like you being coherent, Jim. And if you don't stop struggling, the other doctors will come back in here."
Jim stilled instantly, but his body was still tense, like he’d jump at the slightest trigger.
“Listen, Jim... please." He couldn't keep the desperation out of his own voice, and that seemed to get Jim's attention. "You want to run and you want to fight, and I understand that. I want to help you with that. I’m going to help you with that. And there's going to be a time for fighting back, but now... you're not fine, Jim. For God sakes, you almost died in front of me. Do you know what that was like?"
Jim's expression tightened, and for a split second, it looked like there was a hint of moisture threatening his eyes. "Yeah, actually," he said roughly, "I do. In case you forgot."
The tightness in Leonard's chest turned into a heaviness, and he and Jim looked at each other for a long moment, neither one flinching. Their mutual brush with death - and I came a lot closer than Jim that time - almost a year ago at the hands of Terra Prime operatives wasn’t something either of them would soon forget, but it had been their silent agreement not to talk about it. A bond, permanently shared, but left quietly on the shelf. Jim had saved his life that day, and it had been a near thing. No, Jim wouldn’t forget something like that, even if he never spoke of it again.
Finally, Leonard sighed. Cautiously, he released Jim’s hand and took a step back from the bed. He leaned on the arm of the chair, giving Jim the most sincere look he could muster. "I haven't forgotten, Jim." He tilted his head to the side, considering Jim carefully. "And would you have wanted me to leave the hospital before I was ready?" There was no reply, so Leonard pressed on. "And in case you forgot, you kept me from damaging myself irreparably. Dammit Jim, you saved my life. So... let me return the favor, okay?"
It almost looked like Jim was going to argue again, but finally, he sagged back against his pillows. "My head hurts," he said flatly. "And my hips. Shoulder, too."
Relieved for something familiar to do, Leonard reached for the tricorder on the shelf and began scanning. "Well, it's no surprise. You shattered your pelvis and whacked your head pretty badly. Your clavicle was in about seven pieces when we got you. Bones take time to knit, even with osteoblast treatment, and the muscles around the breaks are still healing, too. How's your vision?" Talking to a patient about his medical condition was familiar and comfortable to Leonard, and he felt his own tension ease slightly as he shifted modes.
"I can see just fine." Jim only sounded mildly petulant; it seemed like a good sign.
“Anything else bothering you?”
“I’m stuck in a hospital?” Slightly more petulant, that time. More like Jim.
Leonard hid his own grin. “Besides that, you infant.”
Jim’s eyebrows quirked up hopefully. “I could go for some pizza.”
Leonard snorted as he scanned. “Do you know how many of your organs we put back together? Your digestive system won’t be ready for solid food for another couple of days - not until liver function is back within norms.” And we don’t want you needing to use the bathroom until your pelvis is stable enough to handle the pressure, he thought to himself, but Jim didn’t need to know that much.
“So they’re gonna let me starve?”
Smirking, Leonard tapped the IV stand, holding back a chuckle as Jim groaned dramatically.
“Cruel and unusual, Bones. Cruel and unusual. Hey, beer isn’t solid food, right?”
Leonard gave Jim a bemused smile, hiding the frown that was waiting just beneath the surface. Maybe Jim was perking up, but he knew the kid. This was a coping technique. With the severity of Jim’s disorientation earlier, and his rapid shifts from panic to paranoia to good humor… Jim wasn’t really all there, and probably wouldn’t be for a while.
Head injuries were insidious. Personality shifts, irrational behaviour, and emotional disturbances were just as much symptoms as memory loss. Of course, the more Jim acted like his normal self, the more it would help him recover. But Leonard couldn’t let himself forget how quickly his mood had shifted, and how quickly it could shift back.
Keeping up the lighthearted grin for Jim’s sake, Leonard spent a couple more minutes scanning and poking, as much to reassure himself as to let Jim know that he was looking out for him. Oddly, Jim seemed to relax under his ministrations despite his protests, holding still and answering directly when prompted for information. Finally, Leonard reached for the controls that metered out the cocktail of meds and supplements supporting Jim's body through the healing process. He paused when Jim made a sound that could have been called a whimper, not that Leonard would ever say that to the kid. "Jim?"
Jim blinked a couple of times, then looked away. "Sorry - I don't much like being sedated."
Frowning, Leonard half-sat against the biobed, and waited until Jim looked back up at him to speak. "Jim... I’m adding an anti-inflammatory to your pain meds. I'm not going to sedate you. Not unless your medical condition leaves me no other choice. If you can stay calm and cooperate with me, I can help you recover faster so that you can get out of here sooner. I'd figure that's what you want. And then... I swear to whatever gods in the galaxy will listen, I'll help you get to the bottom of what happened. We'll figure it out. But until then, please kid, just relax and let someone else take care of you for once. Let me take care of you.”
Finally, although warily, Jim nodded. A few moments later, with a slightly higher dose of analgesics, Leonard was satisfied to see some of the tension and pain lines melt away from Jim's shoulders and face. The conversation turned to classes and homework - simple things. Jim asked for his PADD so he could keep up with classes until they released him; Leonard promised to bring it in the morning. They talked about what to do over the semester break. Anything that wasn't the crash or the investigation or...
"Bones?" Jim's tone of voice shifted just enough that Leonard knew he was about to ask something touchy.
"Yes, Jim?"
"Did you watch?"
He didn't have to say anything more - Leonard knew he was talking about the flight recorder feed.
"Yeah, I did. Damn near scared the living daylights out of me."
But Jim shook his head. "That's not what I want to know. I mean... before the engines started to fail... was I good?"
Not for the first time that night, Leonard felt his throat tighten with an unnamed emotion. "Yeah, kid. You were amazing."
Jim blinked at him slowly, then settled back against the pillows more deeply. "Thanks, Bones. I just needed to hear it." He smiled just a bit. "And I needed to know that you watched." Then a wide yawn split his face. "You didn't give me a sedative, did you?"
Smiling softly, Leonard shook his head. "No, Jim." He reached up and smoothed the blankets over Jim's torso.
"Then why the hell am I so sleepy? Haven't I been sleeping for... fuck, I don't even know what day it is."
"It's Friday... sorry, Saturday now. Middle of the night. And you're sleepy because healing takes a lot out of you," Leonard said softly. "Rest, kid. We'll tackle the bigger stuff in the morning."
As Jim drifted off a few minutes later, Leonard sagged back in his chair. Jim was resting in a completely natural sleep for the first time since the crash, he was stable, and now the real recovery could begin. By all rights, the kid shouldn't be alive, but he was, and he was going to make it. A miracle of modern medicine, sheer dumb luck, or some crazy combination of the two - Leonard didn't know which, but he'd take it. The long-held breath could be released.
*********
(To Part Five...)