Title: Broken
Pairing: Kirk/McCoy
Fandom: Star Trek XI (spoilers)
Summary: Everything seems to hurt
Rating: Teen/PG13 [Language]
Word Count: 4160
A/N: #11 in the
Two Men & a Motorbike series. Follows
Spill. [Posting this one earlier than usual cause I'm off work tonight!]
The bed is lumpy. That’s the first thing that Jim notices as he drifts into consciousness. It’s not his mattress. He slowly opens his eyes only to shut them again quickly. God, that hurt. As he becomes more aware, he realizes that everything seems to hurt. His head, his face, his hands, even his legs. He recognizes the familiar aftermath of a fight, but he’s too groggy to remember what happened.
He’s on something. That’s the only reason that he’d be feeling this loopy. He groans and smacks his lips, which also hurt. When he feels cool liquid against his mouth, he laps at it and attempts to open his eyes again. The left one is better, but the right one seems to be swollen shut. Now all he can see is green. What’s happening to him? He can’t be blind. Wait. Do blind people see bright light then green?
The green moves away, and he slowly blinks his good eye. Thank god. He’s not blind or visually impaired in some other weird way. He focuses on the figure leaning over his bed, and his face aches when it shifts into what he figures must be an expression of surprise. He’s never paid much attention to expressions before, but the whole ‘terrible pain’ bit makes this one more noticeable.
“Wake up, sleeping beauty,” Gaila coos at him. She leans forward and puts chips of ice on his mouth.
What’s she doing here? He knows he's not here due to sex, because this is definitely not that kind of sore no matter how rough things might get, but he also doesn't think he had sex, so Gaila's presence doesn't make sense, does it? Gaila… oh. A bar, a fight, a lot of guys--he starts to remember, which he hopes means whatever he’s been given has started to wear off. He only trusts Bones when it comes to being drugged and patched up. Where is Bones?
“We’re at the hospital,” Gaila tells him. He might be drugged and sore, but he’s not an idiot. He’d finally figured that out once he started to become alert.
“Not stupid,” he mutters at her, his tongue feeling thick and heavy. He moves it around in his mouth, relieved to feel that all his teeth are in their proper places. The inside of his right cheek hurts, though, so he thinks maybe he bit it somehow.
“I think that’s disputable. Generally, someone who fights five men at once wouldn’t be considered intelligent,” Gaila informs him before she brushes a wet cloth across his forehead. She grins down at him. “This is almost like playing doctor, only without the sex.”
“Go ‘way,” he says, raising his arm so he can push at her. Ow. He looks down and sees that his knuckles are torn and kinda red. He looks back at Gaila. “Ow.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” she tells him. She pats his head like he’s a child. “I know it hurts, but it’s a lot better than it was earlier. They wiped off all the blood.”
Where’s Bones? Jim hates hospitals. He needs Bones because Bones can take care of him and get him out of here. Why is Gaila here? And why is she petting him like he’s a puppy? He tries to frown at her but it hurts too damn much. “Bones?”
She looks confused. “Your bone hurts? Which one? Should I get the nurse?”
Bones isn’t here. Jim closes his eye and curls his fingers around the blanket covering him. He can’t have Bones. He’s stuck with the petting Orion instead. Damn, his nose hurts. When he notices that, he tries to wiggle it, but that only makes it feel worse. “Broken?” he asks as he opens his eye.
“Oh! You mean broken bones? Well, they wouldn’t tell me much of anything at all at first, but your doctor did finally come out a while ago to tell me that you were stable,” she tells him. “He’s the one who told me to come inside and sit with you, so you wouldn’t wake up alone. It was a minor concussion. From that hit you took to the head and possibly falling so hard, too.”
That isn’t answering his question. “Nose,” he says more firmly. The drug better wear off soon, because he’s already frustrated at not being able to say what’s in his head. There’s drool on his chin. He can’t see it, but he can feel it. Damn it.
Gaila nods and pets his hair again. “Your nose is broken. That’s right,” she tells him in that cooing tone that makes him wonder why he ever had sex with her because she’s irritating as hell. Maybe her being here is some kind of punishment for fighting? To teach him a lesson.
“Why...you...here.” He stretches his lips, ignoring the pain that indicates he’s got a split lip, and moves his tongue around more to try to get whatever they’ve given him to wear off. It’s not going to really help increase his speed of recovery from the drug, but it’s something to do to keep him occupied.
“Why am I here?” Gaila blinks down at him and shrugs. “Because I brought you here last night, after finding you getting your ass kicked. Since it’s my fault those guys targeted you, I thought I should stay.”
“Can go,” he tells her, shifting on the lumpy mattress. He wants a mirror, so he can see how bad the damage is and estimate when it’ll be healed. It feels terrible, but that’s common after a fight, even if there isn’t anything hurt too bad. He needs to see for himself.
“I know I can.” Gaila rolls her eyes, and he’s tempted to point out that it isn’t nice to do when he can’t even open one of his. He doubts she’d care. “I’m not going to, though. I promised your doctor that I’d stay with you as long as you’re here.”
“Leaving soon,” he informs her. Oh, that sounded better. Good. It’s going away.
She shakes her head. “You’re under observation, Kirk. You’ll be here a while. Do you need anything? Are you hungry? I can feed you.”
“Feed myself,” he mutters crossly. He changes his position and feels an ache in his side, but he doesn’t think he’s broken anything there. He’s had broken ribs before, and it’s not fun at all. But his nose is broken, damn it. It better heal up properly because he doesn’t want it to be all crooked and ugly. He pouts as he imagines a terribly crooked and huge nose on his face.
“Captain,” Gaila says quietly as she touches his shoulder, “you can’t do everything on your own. You’re here because of me, so just shut up and let me help.”
He looks up at her and blinks his one good eye. She called him Captain. He wants to smile, but it’ll hurt. Still, he doesn’t like depending on anyone but himself or Bones. Gaila wipes the cloth over his chin, removing the drool, and he decides that having his former one night stand wipe his face has to be one of the most humiliating experiences of his life. Letting her help him can’t be worse than that.
“Wanna leave,” he tells her. He shifts until he’s sitting up, gritting his teeth because it hurts, but he’s not about to let her see it. It’s easier to speak, at least, so that’s an improvement. “Now.”
“No,” she says flatly. “I don’t know what a mild concussion means in technical terms, but they’ve kept you here to monitor you for a reason.”
“’m fine. Can go home now.” He gives her his best charming smile, hoping that it’ll work even if his lips are cracked.
“Do you even listen to what people say to you?” she asks as she studies him. “You’re supposed to be lying down. Don’t make me call the nurse in, Kirk. She’s a terror.”
“I listen.” Sometimes. Alright, maybe he doesn’t listen nearly enough, but it’s usually because people just aren’t saying anything that he wants to hear. He listens when it’s important, though, so that’s what matters. Gaila is looking at him, and he thinks back to last night. He can’t remember all of the fight yet, but he can remember being held and hit and then a pain in the back of his head. That must be why his head is throbbing. It can’t be due to the pain drugs wearing off because that’d mean he needs more, which probably means staying in the damn hospital.
“Liar.” Gaila smiles and shakes her head. “You’re going to go whether I help you or not, aren’t you?”
“Yeah.” No point in lying about it. He’s not in good enough form to do it that well right now. He plans to get out of here and get Jess and…His plans stop when he thinks about Jess. Broken headlight. Slashed tire. He looks at Gaila and says, “My bike.”
“Oh. Uh. It’s at the bar,” she says, stammering enough for him to know that Jessica’s been damaged. He isn’t imagining it, then. “Don’t worry about it right now. The owner said it can stay for a few days.”
He has to leave. He’s got to go get Jess, go find out what that bastard did, try to fix her. He swings his legs over the side of the bed and stares down at the bruises covering his skin. “’m going.”
“You’ll need your pants,” Gaila says simply. He glances at her and sees her holding his clothes. She smiles. “On the condition that you go home and rest. You’ll promise me, or I’ll start yelling right now until this room is swarming with doctors and nurses.”
“Never promoting you, if I get a ship,” he mutters. He holds out his hand for his clothes, glad to see that his knuckles don’t look as bad as he first thought. Torn and messed up, sure, but they’ll heal. Gaila puts his clothes behind her back, and he scowls, which hurts a little but is worth it. “Fine. I promise.”
“To make sure that you keep that promise, I’ll take you home,” she decides, obviously not trusting him.
“Whatever.” It’s not like he can’t leave as soon as she’s gone anyway. He gets his clothes and notices that they’re different from what he was wearing last night. “Where’d you get these?”
“They were in the closet.” She’s giving him a look that makes him think she’s questioning their agreement, so he doesn’t explain why he asked. She’d probably think the concussion scrambled his brain and not help him escape.
Jim tries to get the loose athletic pants on, but it’s difficult to do when nearly every part of his body is sore. When she comes over to help him, he looks at the ceiling and lets her. She’s efficient and fast, which is a relief. He must be feeling better because he can’t help but say, “Guess this is new to you, huh? Dressing a man instead of undressing him?”
She rolls her eyes. “I think I liked you better speechless and drooling.” She finishes buttoning his shirt, which is a hell of a lot easier to put on than the t-shirt he was wearing last night, and smoothes down the front. “So, do you need to go sign yourself out or something?”
“Or something,” he says vaguely. While they can’t make him stay, he doesn’t want to deal with it all. He just wants to go home, get rid of his green shadow, then go get Jess from the bar.
“I’m not crawling out any windows, Jim Kirk, so you’d better have a plan,” she tells him. He has to admire her willingness to break rules. Maybe he’ll promote her one day after all, so long as she never pets him again. Ever.
“No windows.” He finishes getting his boots on and slowly makes his way to the door. Thank god that he can talk somewhat normally now, since he can’t think that his plan would be successful if he had to give directions one word at a time. With drool. “You go first.”
“Wait. That’s your plan?” She gives him a ‘you’re an idiot’ look. It’s funny how many times he’s seen that look before.
“Just go. I’ll meet you at the elevator.” He doesn’t really need a better plan than that. She rolls her eyes but actually does what he says, which makes him automatically like her a little more than before. When she leaves the room, he steps out after her but goes the other way. If there’s a choice between looking at a hot Orion woman or a bruised up man with his head ducked down, he knows which one he’d make. Lucky for him, anyone paying attention must have made the same one, because he manages to make his way around to the elevator without being stopped.
“It’s about time,” Gaila says before she practically shoves him into the elevator. “If you get caught, I didn’t help.”
“That defense might be better if you weren’t talking to me,” he remarks, somewhat hopefully. She just gives him one of those looks that all females, regardless of species, seem to be damn good at giving. The one that says ‘you’re a stupid man so shut up’. If he felt better, he might challenge it. As it is, his side is starting to ache in a way that makes him think that he’s probably covered in bruises there, too. He can distantly remember getting in some good punches, but his body sure as hell doesn’t seem to indicate that.
When they leave the hospital, he feels like he can finally breathe again. Gaila has moved to his side, and she’s leaning towards him in a way that lets him put some of his weight on her without having to admit he needs the help. He’s grateful for that, even if it means that he’s going to have to reevaluate his opinion of her even more. Later. His mind is too groggy to think right now.
“Where do you live?” she asks as she helps him towards a tiny car that he’s not even sure he can fit into.
He gives her Bones’ dorm name without even thinking about it. It isn’t until he’s somehow managed to get into the car that he realizes his error. Instead of correcting it, he leans his head against the window and closes his eyes. He needs Bones. In the past, anytime he gets in a fight, he ends up at Bones’ so he can be taken care of. He wants Bones to take care of him, even if it means breaking down and asking.
When the car stops, he shifts and realizes that he started to doze during the short journey. His face is hurting more, too, so the painkillers must be nearly worn off. Maybe Bones will have something that Jim can take. Something that won’t make him feel like he’s blindly stumbling through a thick fog, hopefully. Gaila gets out of the car and walks over to his side, helping him get out in that same efficient way he noticed earlier.
“I thought that this dorm was usually for med students,” she says thoughtfully. “Are you sure this is where you live?”
“Don’t live here. Stay here, when I’m hurt,” he tells her as they walk inside. When they reach Bones’ door, he leans against the wall and looks at her. “This is me. Uh, thanks.”
“Inside, Kirk. I’m not leaving until you’re settled inside,” she says stubbornly. He doesn’t want the awkwardness of her going in with him when he’s going to have to deal with Bones’ shock at him being there. It’s not something he can tell her, though.
He reaches up and rubs his jaw. “Will you just trust me, Gaila? I’ll go rest.” Briefly. Then he’s going back to the bar.
She studies him and looks curious but finally nods. “Okay. I’m serious about you resting, though. You’re a mess. Those guys did a lot of damage before I interrupted them.”
“You did?” He blinks his good eye and frowns. “I can’t remember much of it,” he admits. “Wait, your target. The blond? What happened there?”
“He understood, or he wasn’t inclined to argue with me after I’d used a few of those hand-to-hand combat skills that my occasionally brilliant teacher taught me. Either way, we’ve got a date tomorrow night,” she tells him.
His lips quirk slightly. “You beat them up?”
“Just one of them. The others ran off like cowards. I got the one who did this,” she says, moving her hand behind his head to lightly touch the throbbing spot on the back of his head.
“Good on you. You’ll have to give me details sometime.” He rubs his thumb over his broken bottom lip and makes a face. “Thanks, Gaila. For all this.”
“Just don’t let it happen again,” she tells him. She smiles and flips her hair over her shoulder. “Get some rest, Captain.”
He waits until she’s gone before he knocks on the door with the heel of his palm. There’s no answer, and he realizes that Bones is probably at the hospital since it’s the middle of the morning. If so, that means he must have heard that Jim was there, but he didn’t visit. This is probably the last place that Jim should be, but it’s the only place that he wants to be. He might not understand it, but he knows it.
When there’s no answer after a second knock, he punches in Bones’ security code and walks inside when the door opens. His head hurts, and he’s starting to feel the effect of being up and about before his body was probably ready for activity. Damn it. After a trip to the bathroom, where he finds something to take that might help dull the pain in his face, he kicks off his shoes and lies down. He’s no good to Jess yet, so he’ll get some rest then go get her. The mattress is soft and everything smells like Bones. He pulls the blanket closer to his face and inhales, closing his eyes as he gets comfortable.
It’s over three hours later when he wakes up. Jim groans and starts to rub his face, but it hurts. “Fuck,” he mutters as he shifts and leans back against the pillows. He hasn’t looked in a mirror yet, but his face is aching enough that he can imagine pretty well how it must look. As he sits there, trying to determine if he’s going to be able to get Jess yet or not, he looks around Bones’ room.
He’s been here hundreds of times in the last three years, but he can’t really remember ever looking at it. There are tons of books stacked neatly in a bookcase, a photograph of a little girl with Bones’ hair and smile, a datapad on the desk, and a half-empty bottle of bourbon on the table. Bones has books on psychology, alien biology, and chemistry mixed with medical texts. Jim’s surprised at the variety, since he never really knew that Bones was into anything other than being a surgeon.
No, that’s not right. He can remember Bones telling him something about his pathology classes and figuring out some disease origins that Jim didn’t really understand. So he didn’t bother to listen. What else has Bones tried to tell him that he never bothered to hear? He feels sort of sick as he realizes that he’s not been a very good friend at all. No wonder Bones thinks he’s a selfish bastard. He is. Bones has been there every single time he’s needed someone, but he can’t remember what Bones is studying outside of a general ‘surgery medicine’ doctor idea.
He sits there staring at the books until he finally gets up and makes his way to the bathroom. After he flushes the toilet, he goes to wash his hands and just stares at the mirror. Gaila’s right. His face is a complete mess. He’s got two black eyes, his nose is broken, his lips are busted, there’s a gash on his forehead, and there’s even bruises on his jaw. His right eye is very swollen, and he still can’t open it more than a squint. Damn. They really got him good, worse than he expected.
After he washes his hands, he goes back into the room and walks over to Bones’ bookcase. He picks up the photograph displayer and scrolls through the images of Bones’ daughter, thinking back to last week when they took the drive along the coast. Bones must miss her a lot, especially when she’s off in Georgia with the Ex, and he’s about to get sent away for five years. She’s a pretty kid, which isn’t surprising considering her father. He finds Bones incredibly attractive and sexy. It’s the rugged unkempt ‘doesn’t really give a fuck’ sort of appeal, he figures, which is still confusing to him because he normally likes pretty and shiny.
The sound of an engine revving up outside catches his attention, and he looks up from the pictures to glance at the window. It sounds like Jessica, which is probably an indication that he needs more rest. Or more painkillers. Maybe both. The engine revs again, and he puts down the displayer before he walks over to look outside. He’s never noticed a motorbike in that lot in the past, so he’s curious.
When he sees Bones straddling Jessica, he can’t believe it. There’s an odd sense of déjà vu when their gazes meet. This is familiar to him, only it’s normally reversed. He’s inside looking out this time. Jim notices that one of Jessica’s mirrors is gone, but the headlight and tire have been replaced. He can’t tell if there’s any other damage, and, really, he can’t stop looking at Bones to notice.
Bones just stares at him with an expression that Jim can’t really identify. He doesn’t understand this, any of it, but he aches for Bones. He raises his hand and puts his palm against the glass. A relieved look takes over Bones’ face for a minute before he turns off the engine and gracefully dismounts. Jim can’t look away from him, watching him as he starts to walk and eventually runs around the side of the building. It’s overwhelming how intense his emotions are right now. He looks at Jess, unable to believe that she’s there, even if she’s damaged, like him.
The door opens, and he turns towards Bones. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, not entirely sure what he’s apologizing for because there’s so much.
“Don’t,” Bones says in a low raspy voice that Jim knows would arouse him if he wasn’t sore and tired. Jim steps away from the window as Bones walks across the room. “Damn it, Jim. You should be resting, not sneaking out of the hospital and walking around.”
“It isn’t my fault,” he says, needing to explain. “The fight last night wasn’t me this time.”
“I know,” Bones touches his cheek and lightly traces Jim’s lips with his thumb. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Matters to me.” He tries to smile, but his lips hurt, so it becomes a grimace. “I don’t think I can talk about all this right now, though.”
“It would, you stubborn bastard.” Bones leans his head forward, until their foreheads are touching. “It can wait.” He sighs. “I’m sorry, too.”
“Don’t,” he murmurs, tilting his head slightly that he can press his lips against Bones’. He doesn’t care that it hurts a little because he needs this, needs Bones.
“Later,” Bones says softly. “You should be in bed, Jim. Even a minor concussion is serious, you know?”
“Then put me to bed, Doctor.” He looks at Bones, feeling nervous all of a sudden. Bones doesn’t want him, but this doesn’t feel like it used to, if Bones is trying to just be friends. He doesn’t want to be rejected again, so he feels more than a little vulnerable.
Bones doesn’t say anything. He just looks at Jim for several long, silent moments before he leans down and unlaces his boots. When he straightens up, he nods towards the bed. Jim swallows hard before he lies down. Bones lies next to him, moving one arm to rest around Jim’s lower belly, beneath the bruises that are there, as if he knows. How does he know? Jim doesn’t ask because Bones is lying against him and holding him and that matters more than silly questions right now.
“I’ve missed you,” Bones whispers so quietly than Jim almost doesn’t hear him.
Jim closes his eyes and breathes in the scent of Bones as he moves his hand down to rest on Bones’ arm. He squeezes gently before he admits, “I’ve missed you, too.”
End
#10: Spill |
#12: Repair