(Fic) A Man Has Dreams (1/1)
Title: A Man Has Dreams
Author: general_public
Rating: PG
Pairing(s): Kirk/McCoy, McCoy/Chapel
Warning: Character death
Summary: There's no such thing as growing old together when one of you is Jim Kirk.
Author Notes: Repost. ST XI fic. Written in second person, McCoy point of view.
The best thing in the world is this: Jim Kirk, in your arms, post-coital and thoroughly blissed out. His breathing's steady, his heartbeat regular, and he's sighing your name as he drifts away to his dreams like you're the only one who can take him there.
You watch him sleep and it's easy to dream yourself, of old southern houses with verandas and sweeping acres of lush greenery and all the bourbon you can stomach. You'll grow old here, you and Jim, and it'll be as close to heaven on earth as anything can.
It's easy to dream when you've just been to the stars and back again.
*
The worst thing in the world is this: Jim Kirk, in your arms, kissing you softly one more time as he pulls away. He reaches for you with his hand and you take it, placing it over your cheek so he can feel you, flushed and warm under his touch.
"I want you waiting in my bed when I get back."
His hand falls away and he winks, then, flashing a blinding hundred-watt grin. He pinches your ass, slaps it for good measure, and shoos you back to where you belong so he can go and be captain.
There's no such thing as growing old together when one of you is Jim Kirk.
*
Christine Chapel is an attractive, intelligent, feminine woman who you would have been drawn to like a moth to a flame had this been a universe without bitter divorces or Jim Kirk. You respect her more than you've respected most people and as a colleague she's nothing short of a gift from God. When you have to stop operating because your hands are shaking, because it's Jim lying there bleeding to death again, damnit, she's the one who's always there.
You sink into a chair by Jim's bedside and wonder how many more times you can go through this and come out intact. One day it's going to break you and you'll have no one to help you pick up the pieces.
The hand on your shoulder is gentle enough to sooth you and you can't help leaning into it. It's been a long day; you were dead on your feet before you finally got to sit down. You've been watching Jim, who lies oblivious before you, and it shouldn't be so easy to turn your back on him, but Christine knows, Christine cares, and you're a little drunk on that damn bourbon you've just been downing.
"Doctor? It's the end of my shift. I'm going to bed." She goes to the door and you walk with her, planning to show her out. "I suggest you do the same. Paula should be along soon to relive me and she's very capable. The captain will be alright here."
He will - even now he looks as content as someone can when they're hooked up to breathing apparatus - but you can't face an empty bed. Not tonight.
You reach for door at the same time she does and your hands touch, and you don't know if it's the alcohol or the long day but you're slow to pull away. Even when you do, she's looking at you through curious eyes and her pretty face is unusually sympathetic and something you'd really like to lose yourself in. You should be pushing each other away and giving lectures about professional conduct and what is and isn't appropriate in the workplace but you're both breathing hard, and her hand is on your face now, like she understands.
"Oh, Len..."
Her mouth is cracked and dry and taste of day-old lipstick and it's been a long time since you've received a kiss that felt this real. Her hair is mused, her clothes wrinkled, and she looks as tired as you feel but this is a reality you can hold on to, and you grip her a little too tightly before she makes you let her go.
"I'm sorry. I - it's been a long day. I don't know what -"
"It's alright, nurse. You're dismissed."
"We won't speak of this again" passes in a silent promise between you, because these things just happen sometimes and there's no reason for anyone to give any further thought to it. She nods gratefully, apologetically, and hurriedly makes her exit.
You sigh, turn away, back to Jim. He needs you, and you're incapable of abandoning him. On a day like this when he's practically begged you to because he's so unnecessarily reckless you wonder if he cares at all it would be so easy, but you've always loved him more than's good for you. You always will. Jocelyn was right about one thing - you aren't the hard ass you try to be. Not by half.
*
The best thing in the world is this: Jim Kirk. He's yours. He comes back for you, takes you to bed, and makes love to you until you're dreaming of old southern houses and bourbon and a future you can believe in on a day like this.
The worst thing in the world is this: Jim Kirk. He's yours. Until the day he doesn't come back, and you're left alone to dreams that were never going to happen and an unbearable loneliness you only have yourself to blame for.
*
Unless you don't let Christine push you away when you kiss. You think it's just about release at first but you marry, live happily ever after. It's a miracle after Jocelyn, after Jim. There's nothing bitter or lonely about this reality; not here where you've been able to keep Christine close. She holds you and listens patiently as you tell stories of the academy and Jim's never felt more real to you as you remember him together. It's cold and dark outside and rain falls gently against the window. It's not the south, and the house isn't old at all, but you're not alone and that's enough.
(Author Notes: Reposted because the original header was a complete mess. Thanks to those who left comments the first time round. Apologies for spamming everyone twice with this)
Author: general_public
Rating: PG
Pairing(s): Kirk/McCoy, McCoy/Chapel
Warning: Character death
Summary: There's no such thing as growing old together when one of you is Jim Kirk.
Author Notes: Repost. ST XI fic. Written in second person, McCoy point of view.
The best thing in the world is this: Jim Kirk, in your arms, post-coital and thoroughly blissed out. His breathing's steady, his heartbeat regular, and he's sighing your name as he drifts away to his dreams like you're the only one who can take him there.
You watch him sleep and it's easy to dream yourself, of old southern houses with verandas and sweeping acres of lush greenery and all the bourbon you can stomach. You'll grow old here, you and Jim, and it'll be as close to heaven on earth as anything can.
It's easy to dream when you've just been to the stars and back again.
*
The worst thing in the world is this: Jim Kirk, in your arms, kissing you softly one more time as he pulls away. He reaches for you with his hand and you take it, placing it over your cheek so he can feel you, flushed and warm under his touch.
"I want you waiting in my bed when I get back."
His hand falls away and he winks, then, flashing a blinding hundred-watt grin. He pinches your ass, slaps it for good measure, and shoos you back to where you belong so he can go and be captain.
There's no such thing as growing old together when one of you is Jim Kirk.
*
Christine Chapel is an attractive, intelligent, feminine woman who you would have been drawn to like a moth to a flame had this been a universe without bitter divorces or Jim Kirk. You respect her more than you've respected most people and as a colleague she's nothing short of a gift from God. When you have to stop operating because your hands are shaking, because it's Jim lying there bleeding to death again, damnit, she's the one who's always there.
You sink into a chair by Jim's bedside and wonder how many more times you can go through this and come out intact. One day it's going to break you and you'll have no one to help you pick up the pieces.
The hand on your shoulder is gentle enough to sooth you and you can't help leaning into it. It's been a long day; you were dead on your feet before you finally got to sit down. You've been watching Jim, who lies oblivious before you, and it shouldn't be so easy to turn your back on him, but Christine knows, Christine cares, and you're a little drunk on that damn bourbon you've just been downing.
"Doctor? It's the end of my shift. I'm going to bed." She goes to the door and you walk with her, planning to show her out. "I suggest you do the same. Paula should be along soon to relive me and she's very capable. The captain will be alright here."
He will - even now he looks as content as someone can when they're hooked up to breathing apparatus - but you can't face an empty bed. Not tonight.
You reach for door at the same time she does and your hands touch, and you don't know if it's the alcohol or the long day but you're slow to pull away. Even when you do, she's looking at you through curious eyes and her pretty face is unusually sympathetic and something you'd really like to lose yourself in. You should be pushing each other away and giving lectures about professional conduct and what is and isn't appropriate in the workplace but you're both breathing hard, and her hand is on your face now, like she understands.
"Oh, Len..."
Her mouth is cracked and dry and taste of day-old lipstick and it's been a long time since you've received a kiss that felt this real. Her hair is mused, her clothes wrinkled, and she looks as tired as you feel but this is a reality you can hold on to, and you grip her a little too tightly before she makes you let her go.
"I'm sorry. I - it's been a long day. I don't know what -"
"It's alright, nurse. You're dismissed."
"We won't speak of this again" passes in a silent promise between you, because these things just happen sometimes and there's no reason for anyone to give any further thought to it. She nods gratefully, apologetically, and hurriedly makes her exit.
You sigh, turn away, back to Jim. He needs you, and you're incapable of abandoning him. On a day like this when he's practically begged you to because he's so unnecessarily reckless you wonder if he cares at all it would be so easy, but you've always loved him more than's good for you. You always will. Jocelyn was right about one thing - you aren't the hard ass you try to be. Not by half.
*
The best thing in the world is this: Jim Kirk. He's yours. He comes back for you, takes you to bed, and makes love to you until you're dreaming of old southern houses and bourbon and a future you can believe in on a day like this.
The worst thing in the world is this: Jim Kirk. He's yours. Until the day he doesn't come back, and you're left alone to dreams that were never going to happen and an unbearable loneliness you only have yourself to blame for.
*
Unless you don't let Christine push you away when you kiss. You think it's just about release at first but you marry, live happily ever after. It's a miracle after Jocelyn, after Jim. There's nothing bitter or lonely about this reality; not here where you've been able to keep Christine close. She holds you and listens patiently as you tell stories of the academy and Jim's never felt more real to you as you remember him together. It's cold and dark outside and rain falls gently against the window. It's not the south, and the house isn't old at all, but you're not alone and that's enough.
(Author Notes: Reposted because the original header was a complete mess. Thanks to those who left comments the first time round. Apologies for spamming everyone twice with this)