(no subject)
Title: Grey Room
Fandom: AOS
Pairing: Kirk/McCoy
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: No ownership here, sadly.
Warnings: Mention of canon character deaths
Summary: After the Narada and before the Enterprise’s first mission, Starfleet Academy has become a hellish reminder of mistakes made. Fill for hc_bingo, and edited thanks to deerking999
They had been back on earth for less than forty-eight hours when Jim received the notification of over a hundred funerals. He had received another three more notifications throughout the day.
He recognized most of the names - the TA from his class on advanced programming, his roommate from his first semester. Gaila.
He shoved his PADD underneath his bed. He knew Bones would be back in an hour or two, his shift at medical had to be ending soon.
He wished Starfleet had given him something to work on, but the only surviving cadets that had been put on duty were those in the medical track. Every injured survivor was being treated at Starfleet Academy’s hospital, and between the attack on the Enterprise's medical bay, and the destruction of the other ships, they were sorely lacking in trained medical personal.
Since giving his report two days ago, Jim had not left the apartment he shared with Bones. He had showered twice, each time hoping it would relax him enough to sleep. It didn’t though, and he spent most of his time pacing the room, wanting to leave but not wanting to see the reminders of the classmates he had lost.
So he stayed in their room, occasionally flopping down onto the bed when he felt exhausted. But each time, he would think of something else - another memory of the tall brunette in his linguistics class or the professor he had a debate with over the ethics of genetically modified food.
He hoped it had been quick. He hoped they hadn’t suffered.
This morning, he had cleaned the entire apartment, just to have something to do with his hands. He continued to re-clean it, the scent of chemicals pervading each room.
He was dusting behind the bureau when Bones finally came back.
Jim looked up and nodded at him, turning back to his work before Bones tried to start a conversation.
He wasn’t sure what would be worse - the silence, or the inevitable lecture on sleeping and eating properly that Bones was probably dying to give him.
His stomach knotted as he thought of what could have happened if Bones had left him on earth. He wouldn’t have been on the bridge, he would most likely have been in med bay. Even if they had avoided the same fate as the other ships, Bones would be dead.
"Christ Jim, you were cleaning that when I left you eight hours ago," Bones said, and Jim heard the creak of his bed as he sat down.
Jim stood facing the wall.
"You need to sleep," Bones said as Jim turned around to face him. Bones looked exhausted. There were black rings under his eyes and his shoulders were hunched.
"Yeah...yeah." Jim nodded, crawling onto the bed with Bones.
He heard Bones throw his shoes off before he laid down beside him. A hand threaded through his hair, "Let’s just try to get some sleep, ok?"
Jim nodded, moving closer until he was almost lying on top of Bones.
"Relax," the hand continued to comb through his hair, even as Bones’ eyes began to droop.
"God," he shivered, his body still tingling with unused energy.
Bones’ eyes snapped back open. "Have you slept at all since we’ve been back?"
Jim nodded, even though it was a lie. Bones probably thought that he had slept the last time he had, right after their reports had been filed. But Jim had been just as wired then, spending the night watching his partner sleep while he imagined the last moments of some of their friends.
His ability to lie, though, clearly sucked more than he wanted to believe because Bones was giving him a look: one that clearly said I don’t believe you.
He was surprised when Bones sat up and headed to the bathroom, certain he was going to be chewed out for staying awake longer than should be humanly possible.
He heard the doctor rummaging around in the bathroom, and he jerked up right when he came back carrying a hypospray.
"That’s the last thing I need," he said, keeping a close watch on Bones' right hand.
"Do you trust me?"
It was the one thing that Bones could always use to get Jim to do what he wanted. It had taken Jim so long to prove to Bones that Jim trusted him, and while the older man normally did not use this to his advantage, it had worked every time he had.
McCoy wasn’t scowling at him, though. He was pleading. Jim sighed and shook his head. "How long will I be out for?"
"Eight hours, give or take." McCoy replied, shifting from one foot to the other.
Jim refused to look him in the eye, but he nodded and offered his neck to Bones.
"Fuck," he swore, after hearing the familiar buzz and feeling the stinging pain of the hypospray.
Bones rubbed his neck with a wipe, which he tossed into the trash-bin before climbing back into bed with Jim. They lay together, Bones gently stroking his hair and kissing his neck where the hypospray had bit into him.
"They’re dead," Jim whispered.
"I know."
"They weren’t dead a week ago."
"I know."
"It doesn’t make sense."
"It never does."
Jim could feel his body relaxing and his mind slowly disengaging. He curled into McCoy’s body, grasping at whatever he could before he finally fell asleep.
Fandom: AOS
Pairing: Kirk/McCoy
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: No ownership here, sadly.
Warnings: Mention of canon character deaths
Summary: After the Narada and before the Enterprise’s first mission, Starfleet Academy has become a hellish reminder of mistakes made. Fill for hc_bingo, and edited thanks to deerking999
They had been back on earth for less than forty-eight hours when Jim received the notification of over a hundred funerals. He had received another three more notifications throughout the day.
He recognized most of the names - the TA from his class on advanced programming, his roommate from his first semester. Gaila.
He shoved his PADD underneath his bed. He knew Bones would be back in an hour or two, his shift at medical had to be ending soon.
He wished Starfleet had given him something to work on, but the only surviving cadets that had been put on duty were those in the medical track. Every injured survivor was being treated at Starfleet Academy’s hospital, and between the attack on the Enterprise's medical bay, and the destruction of the other ships, they were sorely lacking in trained medical personal.
Since giving his report two days ago, Jim had not left the apartment he shared with Bones. He had showered twice, each time hoping it would relax him enough to sleep. It didn’t though, and he spent most of his time pacing the room, wanting to leave but not wanting to see the reminders of the classmates he had lost.
So he stayed in their room, occasionally flopping down onto the bed when he felt exhausted. But each time, he would think of something else - another memory of the tall brunette in his linguistics class or the professor he had a debate with over the ethics of genetically modified food.
He hoped it had been quick. He hoped they hadn’t suffered.
This morning, he had cleaned the entire apartment, just to have something to do with his hands. He continued to re-clean it, the scent of chemicals pervading each room.
He was dusting behind the bureau when Bones finally came back.
Jim looked up and nodded at him, turning back to his work before Bones tried to start a conversation.
He wasn’t sure what would be worse - the silence, or the inevitable lecture on sleeping and eating properly that Bones was probably dying to give him.
His stomach knotted as he thought of what could have happened if Bones had left him on earth. He wouldn’t have been on the bridge, he would most likely have been in med bay. Even if they had avoided the same fate as the other ships, Bones would be dead.
"Christ Jim, you were cleaning that when I left you eight hours ago," Bones said, and Jim heard the creak of his bed as he sat down.
Jim stood facing the wall.
"You need to sleep," Bones said as Jim turned around to face him. Bones looked exhausted. There were black rings under his eyes and his shoulders were hunched.
"Yeah...yeah." Jim nodded, crawling onto the bed with Bones.
He heard Bones throw his shoes off before he laid down beside him. A hand threaded through his hair, "Let’s just try to get some sleep, ok?"
Jim nodded, moving closer until he was almost lying on top of Bones.
"Relax," the hand continued to comb through his hair, even as Bones’ eyes began to droop.
"God," he shivered, his body still tingling with unused energy.
Bones’ eyes snapped back open. "Have you slept at all since we’ve been back?"
Jim nodded, even though it was a lie. Bones probably thought that he had slept the last time he had, right after their reports had been filed. But Jim had been just as wired then, spending the night watching his partner sleep while he imagined the last moments of some of their friends.
His ability to lie, though, clearly sucked more than he wanted to believe because Bones was giving him a look: one that clearly said I don’t believe you.
He was surprised when Bones sat up and headed to the bathroom, certain he was going to be chewed out for staying awake longer than should be humanly possible.
He heard the doctor rummaging around in the bathroom, and he jerked up right when he came back carrying a hypospray.
"That’s the last thing I need," he said, keeping a close watch on Bones' right hand.
"Do you trust me?"
It was the one thing that Bones could always use to get Jim to do what he wanted. It had taken Jim so long to prove to Bones that Jim trusted him, and while the older man normally did not use this to his advantage, it had worked every time he had.
McCoy wasn’t scowling at him, though. He was pleading. Jim sighed and shook his head. "How long will I be out for?"
"Eight hours, give or take." McCoy replied, shifting from one foot to the other.
Jim refused to look him in the eye, but he nodded and offered his neck to Bones.
"Fuck," he swore, after hearing the familiar buzz and feeling the stinging pain of the hypospray.
Bones rubbed his neck with a wipe, which he tossed into the trash-bin before climbing back into bed with Jim. They lay together, Bones gently stroking his hair and kissing his neck where the hypospray had bit into him.
"They’re dead," Jim whispered.
"I know."
"They weren’t dead a week ago."
"I know."
"It doesn’t make sense."
"It never does."
Jim could feel his body relaxing and his mind slowly disengaging. He curled into McCoy’s body, grasping at whatever he could before he finally fell asleep.