Not Knowing (Bones/Jim implied, G)
Title: Not Knowing
Author: K_E_Wilson
Pairing: Bones/Jim
Rating: G
Summary: Bones really has nothing left but the worry.
Word count: 800
Disclaimer: I don't own it... I never will... I've got a box in a room. That's about it.
A/N: There's really no excuse for this... just a bit of angst for everyone to enjoy.
He did not like being in his room.
It troubled him when he was alone here, and he couldn't bring the memories to go away. There was never a good time to be alone for Leonard McCoy. The fact that now whenever he was alone he remembered the scars on another person's body, the warmth of another person's skin, did not help that to any degree.
Jim still lay like a lifeless doll in Sick bay, and he would have gone back sooner, but for the look that Nurse Chapell had given him when he'd hit the twenty hour mark on his last double shift. The next thing he'd known, both Uhura and Spock had been there; Uhura slowly trying to coax him away from the beside seat he'd barely been aware he'd migrated to, and finally Spock offering- in a maddeningly logical way- to simply nerve-pinch him and drag him off to rest until the good Nurse cleared him to return to duty.
Even then, he'd only relented when Spock's hand actually rose to settle on the pressure points that would knock him out- he didn't need to wake up with the pain that that would incite, and if he 'behaved' and followed their game calmly, he could try and work on the countless files and forms he'd been neglecting for the past week while Jim lay across his biobed.
No, there was never a good time to be alone, but being alone with the memory of Jim's scarred, battered body made him wild with the need to be close to the other man, nearly drowning out the fury he'd felt when the mission that lead to all this had gone awry.
Jim had assured him- it's only a diplomatic mission, Bones, I'll be back for dinner.- that there was nothing to worry about, that he'd be safe- Cupcake's forcing me to bring down three of his guys, and I'll have Sulu and Uhura with me, too.
There was no way he could debate Jim out of this, especially when he'd wanted to do it so badly, so he'd relented and allowed the other man to go down to the planet and try and talk the two groups from ripping into a new civil war that would kill off what little remained of their civilization. But the comm call had come in only two hours into the mission, and there was phaser fire and screaming and battle cries and orders flying around in the background, and Jim's screams of 'beam us up NOW, Scotty!' were cut off viciously in the middle of the third replay by a blast and a THUNK and then a scream that had to have been from Uhura, and then McCoy had watched as the landing party minus Jim had come back- and Uhura was still watching where Jim SHOULD HAVE BEEN and wasn't.
It took him eight days to convince Spock to go back; that they needed to CONFIRM Jim's.... death... to Starfleet before Spock relented and another landing party had beamed down. They had found him, chained in one of the dark cave-cells in the prison. He had scars. He was nude and beaten, and too thin, and when Spock had beamed back up with the captain in his arms, nobody had felt okay.
Rape, beatings, and torture- and he'd let them leave him behind- let them leave not only his captain, but his best friend and lover behind.
No, being alone with these thoughts was never good. But maybe if he was alone long enough he could try and help Jim back.
Even while his heart ached to reach out and shake him awake, because for fuck's sake, even for Jim three weeks passed out and not moving on a biobed was dangerous.
Spock tried to tell him to give it up, that Jim might not wake... but he couldn't.
He couldn't be alone, because Jim had sworn he'd be back- and, okay, he might be three weeks, two hours, forty-eight minutes and twelve seconds late for dinner, but he would be back, because Bones trusted Jim to always come back, and Jim had never broken that trust before.
And the fact that his heart ripped at him, and his mind reeled- unable to focus on anything- had nothing to do with the swelling need to hold Jim's hand and damn propriety and not letting the crew know, because that had been shot all to hell when Jim hadn't been on the goddamn beam platform.
But for now, he sat alone in an empty room, staring blankly at a PADD that had some kind of report on it and not seeing it because his mind was still in sick bay, hoping to god Jim's eyes would just open again.
Author: K_E_Wilson
Pairing: Bones/Jim
Rating: G
Summary: Bones really has nothing left but the worry.
Word count: 800
Disclaimer: I don't own it... I never will... I've got a box in a room. That's about it.
A/N: There's really no excuse for this... just a bit of angst for everyone to enjoy.
He did not like being in his room.
It troubled him when he was alone here, and he couldn't bring the memories to go away. There was never a good time to be alone for Leonard McCoy. The fact that now whenever he was alone he remembered the scars on another person's body, the warmth of another person's skin, did not help that to any degree.
Jim still lay like a lifeless doll in Sick bay, and he would have gone back sooner, but for the look that Nurse Chapell had given him when he'd hit the twenty hour mark on his last double shift. The next thing he'd known, both Uhura and Spock had been there; Uhura slowly trying to coax him away from the beside seat he'd barely been aware he'd migrated to, and finally Spock offering- in a maddeningly logical way- to simply nerve-pinch him and drag him off to rest until the good Nurse cleared him to return to duty.
Even then, he'd only relented when Spock's hand actually rose to settle on the pressure points that would knock him out- he didn't need to wake up with the pain that that would incite, and if he 'behaved' and followed their game calmly, he could try and work on the countless files and forms he'd been neglecting for the past week while Jim lay across his biobed.
No, there was never a good time to be alone, but being alone with the memory of Jim's scarred, battered body made him wild with the need to be close to the other man, nearly drowning out the fury he'd felt when the mission that lead to all this had gone awry.
Jim had assured him- it's only a diplomatic mission, Bones, I'll be back for dinner.- that there was nothing to worry about, that he'd be safe- Cupcake's forcing me to bring down three of his guys, and I'll have Sulu and Uhura with me, too.
There was no way he could debate Jim out of this, especially when he'd wanted to do it so badly, so he'd relented and allowed the other man to go down to the planet and try and talk the two groups from ripping into a new civil war that would kill off what little remained of their civilization. But the comm call had come in only two hours into the mission, and there was phaser fire and screaming and battle cries and orders flying around in the background, and Jim's screams of 'beam us up NOW, Scotty!' were cut off viciously in the middle of the third replay by a blast and a THUNK and then a scream that had to have been from Uhura, and then McCoy had watched as the landing party minus Jim had come back- and Uhura was still watching where Jim SHOULD HAVE BEEN and wasn't.
It took him eight days to convince Spock to go back; that they needed to CONFIRM Jim's.... death... to Starfleet before Spock relented and another landing party had beamed down. They had found him, chained in one of the dark cave-cells in the prison. He had scars. He was nude and beaten, and too thin, and when Spock had beamed back up with the captain in his arms, nobody had felt okay.
Rape, beatings, and torture- and he'd let them leave him behind- let them leave not only his captain, but his best friend and lover behind.
No, being alone with these thoughts was never good. But maybe if he was alone long enough he could try and help Jim back.
Even while his heart ached to reach out and shake him awake, because for fuck's sake, even for Jim three weeks passed out and not moving on a biobed was dangerous.
Spock tried to tell him to give it up, that Jim might not wake... but he couldn't.
He couldn't be alone, because Jim had sworn he'd be back- and, okay, he might be three weeks, two hours, forty-eight minutes and twelve seconds late for dinner, but he would be back, because Bones trusted Jim to always come back, and Jim had never broken that trust before.
And the fact that his heart ripped at him, and his mind reeled- unable to focus on anything- had nothing to do with the swelling need to hold Jim's hand and damn propriety and not letting the crew know, because that had been shot all to hell when Jim hadn't been on the goddamn beam platform.
But for now, he sat alone in an empty room, staring blankly at a PADD that had some kind of report on it and not seeing it because his mind was still in sick bay, hoping to god Jim's eyes would just open again.