Fic: Can't Lose You [PG-13]
Need to stay awake.
He was laying slumped over onto one side, ragged breaths becoming more shallow as the minutes passed. The massive creature that had grabbed him had moved off some time ago, leaving him to slowly fade away in solitude. It was almost humorous, Jim had always thought he would find his end on some exotic planet…or even maybe to Klingons. Not a couple million kilometers from Earth on what should have been a routine stop to the red sister planet.
The big thing that had captured him loped back; rows of serrated teeth jutting out in a macabre smile. Dammit. Another of his crew had probably been picked off as he sat unable to do anything about it. Jim shivered. He was fighting to stay conscious even as shock was setting in. His heart unwittingly pumping the life from his body. Even if someone was able to find him… Someone would find him. Bones would pull him back from the brink and he would wake up to the sounds of Enterprise’s medical central. All Jim had to do was stay awake long enough…
In the distance (or maybe not so distant…it was hard to tell now) Jim swore he heard ballistics fire. It was an absurd notion, none of his crew or the science staff they had come in with had carried the weapons with them. Where Jim wrote the sound off as a hallucination the beast did not. It made a series of low guttural sounds before moving off again.
Jim closed his eyes. Maybe he would die alone after all.
Something moving Jim into a proper sitting position caused his eyes to flutter open. Nothing was completely in focus, but Bones looked about as worse for wear as Jim felt.
“What’s the first thing they teach you? You gotta fight to keep conscious. It’s the only way you’ll…” The scowling face of his CMO was almost enough to make him laugh.
The look on Bones’ face softened considerably, “God, there’s too much blood. No, don’t try to say anything.” He had been trying to talk? Jim was doing his best to focus in on his doctor but it was no use. “Stay with me Jim, just a moment longer. I can’t loose you, not you too.” His deadened limbs couldn’t register what had caused it, but suddenly a warm sensation shot up his arm. Jim’s world plunged into darkness once again.
--
Jim rested peacefully with his eyes closed on the bed, very much thankful for the skill of the ship’s surgeon. Bones would be over to growl at him in due time, the man always seemed to have a sixth sense for when Jim woke up. He waited for several minutes, no one came. That was unusual. Normally the man would be over to read the charts or scan him with the tricorder. In fact, everything seemed off. For one: medical was entirely too quiet. Two: there was an almost sweet smell permeating the air. Not in a candle or incense sort of way, something a bit different.
It was the mechanical ratcheting sound that finally convinced Jim’s eyes to snap open. A moment’s realization told him he was no where close to one of Enterprise’s sick bays. On the contrary, he was in his own bedroom. That ratcheting sound came from…
Jim’s eyes practically bugged out from his skull. Bones McCoy, a man who threw a fit whenever he was forced to carry a phaser (“Who do you think I am?”), was staring intently into the slide release of a very menacing looking rifle. He ratcheted it a few more times, frowned, and began to break down the gun into its various pieces. So intent on the task that he didn’t take notice to Jim propping himself up on the bed.
“Bones?”
“Yeah Jim?” He half growled, never turning his eyes to look at his Captain. The doctor worked the stripped weapon with recognizable ease, as though it was something he had done a hundred times before. Soaking a small towel in what Jim assumed to be solvent he worked the cloth on the inner surface of the rifle.
“It’s a gun…and in surprisingly good condition considering how long it’s been in disuse,” he mentioned after Jim had failed to say anything.
“I can see that,” everyone was taught about twenty-first century weapons, “but…when did you ever learn how to handle one? Another thing, how long have I been out for?”
The older man paused at his work, a foreign look written on his face. The dark expression nearly made Jim shiver. “You’ve been out for about three hours now. I’ve asked for us to be in quarantine here for forty-eight hours total.”
Jim looked at the other man in disbelief. It was so surreal and outlandish that it couldn’t be true. He was clean and dressed in civilian clothing without a single mark to show for all the damage he had sustained earlier.
“You can recover from nearly any wound almost instantaneously,” he continued, “thanks to a synthetic twenty-fourth chromosome I injected into you. The very same extra chromosome my sister gave to me over two-hundred years ago.”
Jim gaped. The story wasn’t just incredulous, it was impossible. The man he knew and occasionally shared a bed with wasn’t the type to make up crazy stories. Jim must have been dreaming. Pinching his skin hurt like it normally should, but the red mark that followed disappeared as he released his fingers.
Bones, understandably, kept his distance as comprehension set in. That did not keep Jim from rushing the older man, knocking the table over, and lifting him cleanly from his seat.
He blinked.
“What the hell?” A moment ago he had been sitting on his bed, meters away from the table. Now he had his CMO hoisted in the air like he weighed nothing at all. And Bones had the audacity to act like it was completely normal.
“You were moments from death and I was selfish. I won’t ask for your forgiveness, just…that you put me down.”
Jim barked out a laugh. It was all a little hard to digest all at once. After Bones was set back onto the floor he hugged the blonde fiercely. “Thank God I found you in time. I don’t know what I would have done if I hadn’t.”
Jim looked at him sympathetically, “I mean that much to you?”
The man simply nodded. It wasn’t too unusual, the man generally had a round-about way of expressing his feelings. But Jim wasn’t the type who needed to hear ‘I love you’; the phrase was shared between them often enough nonverbally. Jim leaned into the embrace finally, allowing his other senses to wash over him.
Maybe flood was the operative word. “Bones, do you know how absolutely delicious you smell?”
“About on par with how you taste,” the dark haired man smiled wolfishly.
Jim ran his tongue along the doctor’s jaw. Oh God. “Will forty-eight hours be enough time?”
He laughed heartily. “Kid, we’ve got an entire lifetime.”
He was laying slumped over onto one side, ragged breaths becoming more shallow as the minutes passed. The massive creature that had grabbed him had moved off some time ago, leaving him to slowly fade away in solitude. It was almost humorous, Jim had always thought he would find his end on some exotic planet…or even maybe to Klingons. Not a couple million kilometers from Earth on what should have been a routine stop to the red sister planet.
The big thing that had captured him loped back; rows of serrated teeth jutting out in a macabre smile. Dammit. Another of his crew had probably been picked off as he sat unable to do anything about it. Jim shivered. He was fighting to stay conscious even as shock was setting in. His heart unwittingly pumping the life from his body. Even if someone was able to find him… Someone would find him. Bones would pull him back from the brink and he would wake up to the sounds of Enterprise’s medical central. All Jim had to do was stay awake long enough…
In the distance (or maybe not so distant…it was hard to tell now) Jim swore he heard ballistics fire. It was an absurd notion, none of his crew or the science staff they had come in with had carried the weapons with them. Where Jim wrote the sound off as a hallucination the beast did not. It made a series of low guttural sounds before moving off again.
Jim closed his eyes. Maybe he would die alone after all.
Something moving Jim into a proper sitting position caused his eyes to flutter open. Nothing was completely in focus, but Bones looked about as worse for wear as Jim felt.
“What’s the first thing they teach you? You gotta fight to keep conscious. It’s the only way you’ll…” The scowling face of his CMO was almost enough to make him laugh.
The look on Bones’ face softened considerably, “God, there’s too much blood. No, don’t try to say anything.” He had been trying to talk? Jim was doing his best to focus in on his doctor but it was no use. “Stay with me Jim, just a moment longer. I can’t loose you, not you too.” His deadened limbs couldn’t register what had caused it, but suddenly a warm sensation shot up his arm. Jim’s world plunged into darkness once again.
--
Jim rested peacefully with his eyes closed on the bed, very much thankful for the skill of the ship’s surgeon. Bones would be over to growl at him in due time, the man always seemed to have a sixth sense for when Jim woke up. He waited for several minutes, no one came. That was unusual. Normally the man would be over to read the charts or scan him with the tricorder. In fact, everything seemed off. For one: medical was entirely too quiet. Two: there was an almost sweet smell permeating the air. Not in a candle or incense sort of way, something a bit different.
It was the mechanical ratcheting sound that finally convinced Jim’s eyes to snap open. A moment’s realization told him he was no where close to one of Enterprise’s sick bays. On the contrary, he was in his own bedroom. That ratcheting sound came from…
Jim’s eyes practically bugged out from his skull. Bones McCoy, a man who threw a fit whenever he was forced to carry a phaser (“Who do you think I am?”), was staring intently into the slide release of a very menacing looking rifle. He ratcheted it a few more times, frowned, and began to break down the gun into its various pieces. So intent on the task that he didn’t take notice to Jim propping himself up on the bed.
“Bones?”
“Yeah Jim?” He half growled, never turning his eyes to look at his Captain. The doctor worked the stripped weapon with recognizable ease, as though it was something he had done a hundred times before. Soaking a small towel in what Jim assumed to be solvent he worked the cloth on the inner surface of the rifle.
“It’s a gun…and in surprisingly good condition considering how long it’s been in disuse,” he mentioned after Jim had failed to say anything.
“I can see that,” everyone was taught about twenty-first century weapons, “but…when did you ever learn how to handle one? Another thing, how long have I been out for?”
The older man paused at his work, a foreign look written on his face. The dark expression nearly made Jim shiver. “You’ve been out for about three hours now. I’ve asked for us to be in quarantine here for forty-eight hours total.”
Jim looked at the other man in disbelief. It was so surreal and outlandish that it couldn’t be true. He was clean and dressed in civilian clothing without a single mark to show for all the damage he had sustained earlier.
“You can recover from nearly any wound almost instantaneously,” he continued, “thanks to a synthetic twenty-fourth chromosome I injected into you. The very same extra chromosome my sister gave to me over two-hundred years ago.”
Jim gaped. The story wasn’t just incredulous, it was impossible. The man he knew and occasionally shared a bed with wasn’t the type to make up crazy stories. Jim must have been dreaming. Pinching his skin hurt like it normally should, but the red mark that followed disappeared as he released his fingers.
Bones, understandably, kept his distance as comprehension set in. That did not keep Jim from rushing the older man, knocking the table over, and lifting him cleanly from his seat.
He blinked.
“What the hell?” A moment ago he had been sitting on his bed, meters away from the table. Now he had his CMO hoisted in the air like he weighed nothing at all. And Bones had the audacity to act like it was completely normal.
“You were moments from death and I was selfish. I won’t ask for your forgiveness, just…that you put me down.”
Jim barked out a laugh. It was all a little hard to digest all at once. After Bones was set back onto the floor he hugged the blonde fiercely. “Thank God I found you in time. I don’t know what I would have done if I hadn’t.”
Jim looked at him sympathetically, “I mean that much to you?”
The man simply nodded. It wasn’t too unusual, the man generally had a round-about way of expressing his feelings. But Jim wasn’t the type who needed to hear ‘I love you’; the phrase was shared between them often enough nonverbally. Jim leaned into the embrace finally, allowing his other senses to wash over him.
Maybe flood was the operative word. “Bones, do you know how absolutely delicious you smell?”
“About on par with how you taste,” the dark haired man smiled wolfishly.
Jim ran his tongue along the doctor’s jaw. Oh God. “Will forty-eight hours be enough time?”
He laughed heartily. “Kid, we’ve got an entire lifetime.”