Star Trek : Life is No Joke
Title: Life is No Joke
Author: triskellion
Pairing(s): Shades of Kirk/Bones, Kirk/Spock, or even Kirk/Spock/Bones
Rating: PG
Word Count: 3000ish
Disclaimer: It belongs to Gene Roddenberry first, Paramount second, and me not at all.
Summary: When a practical joke gone wrong begets a response gone way wrong, Spock and McCoy have to find a way to convince Kirk that everything's going to be all right after all.
Notes/Warnings: This is based on this prompt and this prompt at st_xi_kink. One asked for Kirk/Bones, the other for Kirk/Spock, but I couldn't resist a bit of both.
“I should have the lot of you sent to the stockade,” Jim snapped as soon as he appeared on the transporter pad. It was the first thing he'd said since the away team found him at the bottom of a hole in the middle of a dank cave. Everyone could only assume he had gone into the cave for shelter in the night and gotten stuck, since he wasn't telling. The mineral content of the rock blocked their communicators and the cave was miles from his beam down point. It had taken a week to locate him.
Spock tried to offer a shoulder to lean on, but Jim shoved away, limping unsteadily on the way to sick bay.
Bones followed quick on his captain's heels. He had done what he could on the planet, bonding Jim's broken leg and providing pain killers, but he needed some of the equipment in his med bay to finish the job properly.
“Jim, you really shouldn't be walking on that leg,” Bones protested, not for the first time. Jim had insisted on limping out of the cave on his own two feet, as soon as it was possible for him to stand again.
A wordless snarl was Jim's only response besides continuing on his way.
When they arrived in Sick Bay, Jim wouldn't look at anyone. He would growl whenever Bones got close, so the doctor started letting Christine Chapel do all the close work, monitoring and giving orders from a distance that didn't set his captain off.
Once Jim was settled and sedated, Bones collapsed into his office and wondered where it all went wrong. It had started with a joke and should have ended with one too. Instead, a joke had turned into a week-long man hunt and Jim was well within his rights to have the lot of them court marshaled. What they'd done, even just what they'd planned to do, was not a fair response to what Jim had done. So he'd beamed water onto the bridge and soaked the staff at an inopportune moment. So he'd then suggested a wet t-shirt contest and made some immature comments. A dumb practical joke, no matter how embarrassing, that hurt no one, did not compare to beaming an unprepared man into the middle of a rain storm and leaving him overnight on a planet not yet fully explored. They were lucky nothing had eaten Jim.
“What the hell were we thinking?” Bones growled as Spock came in and sat across from him.
“I am uncertain,” Spock said. “Though you did not consult me in the initial planning stages.”
“Wish to hell we had,” Bones grumbled. “Might have talked us out of it.”
“I wish to believe I would have allowed logic to dictate, but I find that I too was upset by the Captain's joke. I have been known to let emotion win out, from time to time.”
Bones snorted and poured himself a drink. He'd offer Spock one, but previous experience, i.e. every night for the last week, had taught him better. “He's never going to forgive us.” Bones slugged back the shot.
“It will be … difficult,” Spock concurred, even his Vulcan eyes looking pained.
~o0o~
Jim recovered from his injuries quickly, but Bones didn't release him from Sick Bay. Or, more precisely, their half-trained, half-assed shrink wouldn't release him. Jim hadn't spoken since the transporter pad, three days ago. He just sat or lay in his bed, staring at the walls or the ceiling, and shivered, no matter how many blankets they piled on him.
Bones met with Spock again during gamma shift of the third day. This time, the doctor provided a glass of fruit juice for the Vulcan while he knocked back bourbon.
“Starfleet isn't going to take many more excuses,” Bones said, finally admitting what the entire command crew had been skirting around for days.
“Correct,” Spock replied. “We have orders, and those orders require Captain Kirk functional in order for them to be completed.”
“Even if we could get him back, he'd set course for the nearest star base and drop us all off for court marshal,” Bones said. Even as he grumbled, he had to admit to himself that he'd rather face the consequences and have a hale and whole Jim Kirk back than otherwise.
“I have contacted an … old friend, looking for advice in this matter,” Spock said in what was, for him, a hesitant tone.
“An old friend of yours, or his?” Bones asked curiously.
“It is … complicated,” Spock hedged. “Not many know that Nero's ship was not the only one to come through the singularity. In the second ship was an alternate version of myself, apparently an ambassador in the distant future. He also served alongside Jim Kirk and yourself on the Enterprise in his youth. I thought he might have some insight into how to deal with this situation, knowing his Jim Kirk in more detail than I have yet had a chance to learn.”
Bones blinked repeatedly and tried to remember just how much he'd had to drink this evening. Surely being drunk would make more sense than what Spock had just said. “You serious?” he asked. “There's another version of you running around somewhere from an alternate universe?”
“Yes,” Spock replied blandly.
“Well, I'll be damned.” Bones knocked back his shot. “If that don't beat all. So, what did he suggest?”
“Captain Kirk has retreated into himself. He suggested that though the use of a mind meld I might be able to reassure the captain that he is now safe. He also suggested that if we were both there it might bolster him to remain in reality.”
Bones shook his head. “Given his attitude the last time he surfaced, I doubt he's going to be happy to see me.”
“Will you try all the same?” Spock asked. If he'd been human, Bones might have thought he was pleading. Amazing.
“Fine,” he sighed, knocking back another shot before following Spock to Jim's bed.
“This may take some time,” Spock warned before pressing his spread fingers to various points on the side of Jim's slack face. “My mind to your mind. My thoughts to your thoughts ...”
It wasn't his main focus, but Bones had to admit he was intrigued. He'd barely heard of the Vulcan mind meld before, and certainly never witnessed one. He'd rather been of the impression it was a thing for family only, and yet here was Spock volunteering to poke into the sewer that was Jim Kirk's mind. As Spock would say, 'fascinating.'
Wondering just what the relationship between the other Spock and his Jim Kirk was like occupied Bones for awhile. Unfortunately, such speculation without more than one or two points of evidence wasn't very consuming or productive, unlike this mind meld. Watching the clock, Bones saw twenty minutes tick away before Spock spoke again.
“Jim … please?” Spock hissed in an odd tone. It took Bones a second to realize it wasn't just the odd cadence. They were speaking together, Spock and Jim both. “Come back?”
“Why?” they hissed again, though Bones could tell that was Jim's question, not Spock's. It was spiteful, emotional, pained.
“You are missed,” they replied. Spock replied.
“Bull shit.”
Bones put a hand on Jim's shoulder and watched them both jerk slightly. Maybe he shouldn't have done that, but it was done and he wasn't going to let go. Leaning in, he called in Jim's ear, “I'm sorry. We all are. We screwed up. Please, come back.”
“We should be punished, not you,” Spock/Jim said. “It was our negligence.”
Jim's face scrunched up as if in pain, and Bones was amazed to see the expression almost imitated by Spock's normally blank face. “I started it,” they whispered.
“God, Jim, no,” Bones protested. “It was a dumb joke, a harmless laugh. We were the ones to blow it out of proportion.”
Jim tried to turn his face away, but Spock's touch held him still. “Immature,” they hissed. “Foolish, stupid, nobody.”
“Jim,” Bones gasped. He hadn't heard those words in years. There had been a few nightmares he'd overheard in their first year at the Academy, but they stopped. He'd thought he'd made some progress talking Jim though the mess one too many abusive stepfathers had left behind. “Don't talk nonsense, man. You saved Earth. You are not nobody, never were.”
Spock's brow furrowed, a look of confusion more intense than Bones had ever seen on a Vulcan before. “Wrong … so much nonsense,” he said, his eyes flickering back and forth as though he were reading something very rapidly. “You are loved.”
Bones wasn't quite sure what Spock was reacting too, but he had some ideas. “Don't take my best friend from me,” he whispered in Jim's ear.
They stayed locked like that for several more minutes before Spock began retreating, his expression returning to it's normal blankness even before his fingers left Jim's cheek. But even once he straightened, he clasped Jim's hand tight in his own. Bones took the hint and echoed his pose.
It took time, but eventually Jim blinked twice before closing his eyes with a pained expression. “Why do you care? You should have left me down there,” he whispered, his eyes damp with tears.
“It was supposed to be a joke, one night in the rain in exchange for soaking the Bridge,” Bones protested. “We screwed up, didn't think it through. I'm so sorry, Jim.”
Jim's brow furrowed. “One night?” he asked, opening his eyes.
“We expected to find you where we left you the next morning,” Spock said. “We initiated a full search when we could not reach you by comms and the sensors proved useless.”
“You looked?” Jim whispered desperately, tears trickling from the corners of his eyes.
“Constantly,” Bones assured him. “We've been desperate ...”
“Starfleet certainly wouldn't approve,” Jim muttered. “Killing your captain looks bad on your records.”
“Screw Starfleet,” Bones snapped. “We were worried about you.”
“While his choice of wording is highly colloquial,” Spock added, “Dr. McCoy is correct. I was concerned for my friend.”
Jim looked at them both carefully, then closed his eyes as though he were going back to sleep.
“Damn it, Jim,” Bones snapped, squeezing his captain's hand tight. “Tell Starfleet the truth, ship us all to a penal colony, whatever, but this ship needs you. Starfleet needs you. I need you … for all that I clearly don't deserve you after what I put you through.”
Somehow that broke through, and Jim sat up, shaking off their grips. “Then let me out of here to do my job,” he snapped.
“No more staring at the walls?” Bones hedged.
Jim sneered. “I've got better things to do.”
“Then get out of my Sickbay,” Bones snarked in what he hoped was his usual tone. “I've got actual patients who need the space.”
It wasn't until Jim was gone and the doors shut behind him that Bones turned to Spock. “Did that help, or just make things worse?” he wondered.
“I believe you provided the correct stimulus,” Spock said, and for a moment Bones actually felt reassured.
“I sure as hell hope so,” Bones said darkly. “If not, we're all in deep.”
“Indeed.”
~o0o~
When Jim stepped onto the Bridge for his first shift back, he paused in the doorway when every head suddenly turned his direction. Bones watched over his shoulder as the applause began, spreading from one corner of the room to the other until the ceiling rang. There were no vocalizations, but no one could miss the looks of relief and grins that graced every face.
The applause did not end until Jim, pushed forward by a grinning Bones, took his seat in the central chair, and then it took time to taper off. Finally, Uhura cut of the fading sound by announcing, “Captain, we have new orders from Starfleet.”
“I assume everyone here is aware of their contents?” Jim said, only letting a touch of dark sarcasm slip through. Sheepish nods answered him. “Chekov, you have set the course?”
“Aye, Keptin,” the eager young man replied, looking almost as youthful and innocent as he did when they first set sail.
“Then, Sulu, let's go. Warp 2,” Jim ordered.
Bones planted himself at Jim's left shoulder as Spock walked to Jim's right shoulder with a PADD in hand. “Our logs for the last two weeks, for your review and approval, Captain,” Spock said as he handed over the PADD.
Bones stood there as Jim read through everything. He could see that Spock had reported everything exactly as it happened, taking the blame for losing the captain. Except, he downplayed Jim's breakdown, recording his time in Sickbay purely as for recovery from injuries sustained on the planet.
The only report on the PADD that Jim signed off on was acceptance of their new orders to proceed to Earth Outpost Four for negotiations with the Romulans. Uncertain what to make of that, and worried about Jim's physical and mental state, Bones stayed on the Bridge through the duty cycle, watching.
And so he watched as Chekov shot regular shy smiles at his captain and he and Sulu began a competition as to who could make the silliest face, all the while seeking to make Jim smile, or better yet, laugh. Uhura ordered a snack for Jim behind his back, glaring at Bones when he might have protested giving the captain something as unhealthy as chocolate cake in the midmorning. Scotty stopped by to clap Jim on the shoulder and announce how good it was to have him back on the Bridge. The chief engineer also whispered something into his captain's ear, but Bones didn't know what that conversation was about.
All in all, Jim seemed to be in a good mood, even as he grumbled at Bones for making him eat the healthy salad the doctor ordered for his lunch.
“I let you eat your snack,” Bones said, shoving the tray back into Jim's hands when he tried to give it back to his yeoman with an order for a sandwich. “You need the nutrients.”
“I spent a week eating nothing,” Jim grumbled, but he ate, and Bones ignored it when Uhura smuggled in another chocolaty dessert an hour later.
~o0o~
It was a relief to finally head back to Sickbay once Jim was done on the Bridge and safely dispatched back to his quarters. The only nagging component to the otherwise positive day was the PADD still in Jim's hand as he left, the one with all the unsigned logs for the last two weeks. What was in there could get half the senior staff court-marshaled, Bones included.
He tried to remind himself that whatever happened was fine as long as Jim was all right, saying it over and over to himself as he signed paperwork in his office. But he didn't feel any more at ease when Jim paged him to come to his quarters a few hours later.
Somehow he wasn't surprised to find Jim sprawled in his desk chair, a large bottle of something alcoholic in front of him.
“What's up, Captain?” Bones asked.
“Jim,” Jim corrected, waving Bones to take a seat. “We're not on duty, no call for formality.”
Bones gave him an uncertain look but sat, and he accepted a drink when it was offered.
“Scotty dropped it by while I was on duty, from his latest secret distillation,” Jim told him. “Not half bad.”
Knocking his own shot back almost sent Bones into convulsions. “Milder than his last batch,” he wheezed, wondering how much Jim had had and how fast he could confiscate what was left. This stuff was better used as a sanitizing fluid than a drink. Though the flavor wasn't half bad.
“Need you to review and sign those,” Jim added, pointing at the PADD sitting on his desk, the same PADD Spock gave him earlier that day.
“Thought you said we weren't on duty,” Bones grumbled as a cover for his own nervousness as he grabbed the PADD. Jim didn't say anything, just watched while Bones read, and read, and got very confused. “This isn't accurate,” he finally said, looking curiously at Jim.
“No,” Jim agreed. “But it also won't get anyone in trouble.”
“Why?” Bones asked desperately. “You could have been killed.”
“We all made mistakes,” Jim said with a shrug. “As long as we learned from them ...”
“You sure?” Bones wanted to sign off on this, keep his home and his friends, but Jim was the center of this ship, was his best friend.
“Just sign the damned thing,” Jim grunted, though he didn't look nearly as disgruntled as he sounded. “I promise not to pull anymore dumb practical jokes if you do.”
Bones chuckled. “Agreed.” And he signed.
Jim grinned, his eyes lighting up. “Great, now as long as Spock signs off we're all in the clear and we can get on with our lives.”
“You sure he will?” Bones asked uncertainly.
“Oh yeah,” Jim said with an oddly smug look.
Bones took another drink, sipping it slowly this time. “Thank you, Jim.”
“No, Bones,” Jim countered. “Thank you.” He paused for a moment, knocking back his own drink, but did continue. “No one's ever come looking before.”
“Jim,” Bones gasped. He reached across the desk and gripped Jim's hand. “We'll always come looking,” he promised.
“I know,” Jim replied, catching Bones' eyes with a look of complete confidence. For the first time, Bones could see the difference between his friend's usual cocky mask and true happiness lighting up his eyes. “I know.”
Author: triskellion
Pairing(s): Shades of Kirk/Bones, Kirk/Spock, or even Kirk/Spock/Bones
Rating: PG
Word Count: 3000ish
Disclaimer: It belongs to Gene Roddenberry first, Paramount second, and me not at all.
Summary: When a practical joke gone wrong begets a response gone way wrong, Spock and McCoy have to find a way to convince Kirk that everything's going to be all right after all.
Notes/Warnings: This is based on this prompt and this prompt at st_xi_kink. One asked for Kirk/Bones, the other for Kirk/Spock, but I couldn't resist a bit of both.
“I should have the lot of you sent to the stockade,” Jim snapped as soon as he appeared on the transporter pad. It was the first thing he'd said since the away team found him at the bottom of a hole in the middle of a dank cave. Everyone could only assume he had gone into the cave for shelter in the night and gotten stuck, since he wasn't telling. The mineral content of the rock blocked their communicators and the cave was miles from his beam down point. It had taken a week to locate him.
Spock tried to offer a shoulder to lean on, but Jim shoved away, limping unsteadily on the way to sick bay.
Bones followed quick on his captain's heels. He had done what he could on the planet, bonding Jim's broken leg and providing pain killers, but he needed some of the equipment in his med bay to finish the job properly.
“Jim, you really shouldn't be walking on that leg,” Bones protested, not for the first time. Jim had insisted on limping out of the cave on his own two feet, as soon as it was possible for him to stand again.
A wordless snarl was Jim's only response besides continuing on his way.
When they arrived in Sick Bay, Jim wouldn't look at anyone. He would growl whenever Bones got close, so the doctor started letting Christine Chapel do all the close work, monitoring and giving orders from a distance that didn't set his captain off.
Once Jim was settled and sedated, Bones collapsed into his office and wondered where it all went wrong. It had started with a joke and should have ended with one too. Instead, a joke had turned into a week-long man hunt and Jim was well within his rights to have the lot of them court marshaled. What they'd done, even just what they'd planned to do, was not a fair response to what Jim had done. So he'd beamed water onto the bridge and soaked the staff at an inopportune moment. So he'd then suggested a wet t-shirt contest and made some immature comments. A dumb practical joke, no matter how embarrassing, that hurt no one, did not compare to beaming an unprepared man into the middle of a rain storm and leaving him overnight on a planet not yet fully explored. They were lucky nothing had eaten Jim.
“What the hell were we thinking?” Bones growled as Spock came in and sat across from him.
“I am uncertain,” Spock said. “Though you did not consult me in the initial planning stages.”
“Wish to hell we had,” Bones grumbled. “Might have talked us out of it.”
“I wish to believe I would have allowed logic to dictate, but I find that I too was upset by the Captain's joke. I have been known to let emotion win out, from time to time.”
Bones snorted and poured himself a drink. He'd offer Spock one, but previous experience, i.e. every night for the last week, had taught him better. “He's never going to forgive us.” Bones slugged back the shot.
“It will be … difficult,” Spock concurred, even his Vulcan eyes looking pained.
~o0o~
Jim recovered from his injuries quickly, but Bones didn't release him from Sick Bay. Or, more precisely, their half-trained, half-assed shrink wouldn't release him. Jim hadn't spoken since the transporter pad, three days ago. He just sat or lay in his bed, staring at the walls or the ceiling, and shivered, no matter how many blankets they piled on him.
Bones met with Spock again during gamma shift of the third day. This time, the doctor provided a glass of fruit juice for the Vulcan while he knocked back bourbon.
“Starfleet isn't going to take many more excuses,” Bones said, finally admitting what the entire command crew had been skirting around for days.
“Correct,” Spock replied. “We have orders, and those orders require Captain Kirk functional in order for them to be completed.”
“Even if we could get him back, he'd set course for the nearest star base and drop us all off for court marshal,” Bones said. Even as he grumbled, he had to admit to himself that he'd rather face the consequences and have a hale and whole Jim Kirk back than otherwise.
“I have contacted an … old friend, looking for advice in this matter,” Spock said in what was, for him, a hesitant tone.
“An old friend of yours, or his?” Bones asked curiously.
“It is … complicated,” Spock hedged. “Not many know that Nero's ship was not the only one to come through the singularity. In the second ship was an alternate version of myself, apparently an ambassador in the distant future. He also served alongside Jim Kirk and yourself on the Enterprise in his youth. I thought he might have some insight into how to deal with this situation, knowing his Jim Kirk in more detail than I have yet had a chance to learn.”
Bones blinked repeatedly and tried to remember just how much he'd had to drink this evening. Surely being drunk would make more sense than what Spock had just said. “You serious?” he asked. “There's another version of you running around somewhere from an alternate universe?”
“Yes,” Spock replied blandly.
“Well, I'll be damned.” Bones knocked back his shot. “If that don't beat all. So, what did he suggest?”
“Captain Kirk has retreated into himself. He suggested that though the use of a mind meld I might be able to reassure the captain that he is now safe. He also suggested that if we were both there it might bolster him to remain in reality.”
Bones shook his head. “Given his attitude the last time he surfaced, I doubt he's going to be happy to see me.”
“Will you try all the same?” Spock asked. If he'd been human, Bones might have thought he was pleading. Amazing.
“Fine,” he sighed, knocking back another shot before following Spock to Jim's bed.
“This may take some time,” Spock warned before pressing his spread fingers to various points on the side of Jim's slack face. “My mind to your mind. My thoughts to your thoughts ...”
It wasn't his main focus, but Bones had to admit he was intrigued. He'd barely heard of the Vulcan mind meld before, and certainly never witnessed one. He'd rather been of the impression it was a thing for family only, and yet here was Spock volunteering to poke into the sewer that was Jim Kirk's mind. As Spock would say, 'fascinating.'
Wondering just what the relationship between the other Spock and his Jim Kirk was like occupied Bones for awhile. Unfortunately, such speculation without more than one or two points of evidence wasn't very consuming or productive, unlike this mind meld. Watching the clock, Bones saw twenty minutes tick away before Spock spoke again.
“Jim … please?” Spock hissed in an odd tone. It took Bones a second to realize it wasn't just the odd cadence. They were speaking together, Spock and Jim both. “Come back?”
“Why?” they hissed again, though Bones could tell that was Jim's question, not Spock's. It was spiteful, emotional, pained.
“You are missed,” they replied. Spock replied.
“Bull shit.”
Bones put a hand on Jim's shoulder and watched them both jerk slightly. Maybe he shouldn't have done that, but it was done and he wasn't going to let go. Leaning in, he called in Jim's ear, “I'm sorry. We all are. We screwed up. Please, come back.”
“We should be punished, not you,” Spock/Jim said. “It was our negligence.”
Jim's face scrunched up as if in pain, and Bones was amazed to see the expression almost imitated by Spock's normally blank face. “I started it,” they whispered.
“God, Jim, no,” Bones protested. “It was a dumb joke, a harmless laugh. We were the ones to blow it out of proportion.”
Jim tried to turn his face away, but Spock's touch held him still. “Immature,” they hissed. “Foolish, stupid, nobody.”
“Jim,” Bones gasped. He hadn't heard those words in years. There had been a few nightmares he'd overheard in their first year at the Academy, but they stopped. He'd thought he'd made some progress talking Jim though the mess one too many abusive stepfathers had left behind. “Don't talk nonsense, man. You saved Earth. You are not nobody, never were.”
Spock's brow furrowed, a look of confusion more intense than Bones had ever seen on a Vulcan before. “Wrong … so much nonsense,” he said, his eyes flickering back and forth as though he were reading something very rapidly. “You are loved.”
Bones wasn't quite sure what Spock was reacting too, but he had some ideas. “Don't take my best friend from me,” he whispered in Jim's ear.
They stayed locked like that for several more minutes before Spock began retreating, his expression returning to it's normal blankness even before his fingers left Jim's cheek. But even once he straightened, he clasped Jim's hand tight in his own. Bones took the hint and echoed his pose.
It took time, but eventually Jim blinked twice before closing his eyes with a pained expression. “Why do you care? You should have left me down there,” he whispered, his eyes damp with tears.
“It was supposed to be a joke, one night in the rain in exchange for soaking the Bridge,” Bones protested. “We screwed up, didn't think it through. I'm so sorry, Jim.”
Jim's brow furrowed. “One night?” he asked, opening his eyes.
“We expected to find you where we left you the next morning,” Spock said. “We initiated a full search when we could not reach you by comms and the sensors proved useless.”
“You looked?” Jim whispered desperately, tears trickling from the corners of his eyes.
“Constantly,” Bones assured him. “We've been desperate ...”
“Starfleet certainly wouldn't approve,” Jim muttered. “Killing your captain looks bad on your records.”
“Screw Starfleet,” Bones snapped. “We were worried about you.”
“While his choice of wording is highly colloquial,” Spock added, “Dr. McCoy is correct. I was concerned for my friend.”
Jim looked at them both carefully, then closed his eyes as though he were going back to sleep.
“Damn it, Jim,” Bones snapped, squeezing his captain's hand tight. “Tell Starfleet the truth, ship us all to a penal colony, whatever, but this ship needs you. Starfleet needs you. I need you … for all that I clearly don't deserve you after what I put you through.”
Somehow that broke through, and Jim sat up, shaking off their grips. “Then let me out of here to do my job,” he snapped.
“No more staring at the walls?” Bones hedged.
Jim sneered. “I've got better things to do.”
“Then get out of my Sickbay,” Bones snarked in what he hoped was his usual tone. “I've got actual patients who need the space.”
It wasn't until Jim was gone and the doors shut behind him that Bones turned to Spock. “Did that help, or just make things worse?” he wondered.
“I believe you provided the correct stimulus,” Spock said, and for a moment Bones actually felt reassured.
“I sure as hell hope so,” Bones said darkly. “If not, we're all in deep.”
“Indeed.”
~o0o~
When Jim stepped onto the Bridge for his first shift back, he paused in the doorway when every head suddenly turned his direction. Bones watched over his shoulder as the applause began, spreading from one corner of the room to the other until the ceiling rang. There were no vocalizations, but no one could miss the looks of relief and grins that graced every face.
The applause did not end until Jim, pushed forward by a grinning Bones, took his seat in the central chair, and then it took time to taper off. Finally, Uhura cut of the fading sound by announcing, “Captain, we have new orders from Starfleet.”
“I assume everyone here is aware of their contents?” Jim said, only letting a touch of dark sarcasm slip through. Sheepish nods answered him. “Chekov, you have set the course?”
“Aye, Keptin,” the eager young man replied, looking almost as youthful and innocent as he did when they first set sail.
“Then, Sulu, let's go. Warp 2,” Jim ordered.
Bones planted himself at Jim's left shoulder as Spock walked to Jim's right shoulder with a PADD in hand. “Our logs for the last two weeks, for your review and approval, Captain,” Spock said as he handed over the PADD.
Bones stood there as Jim read through everything. He could see that Spock had reported everything exactly as it happened, taking the blame for losing the captain. Except, he downplayed Jim's breakdown, recording his time in Sickbay purely as for recovery from injuries sustained on the planet.
The only report on the PADD that Jim signed off on was acceptance of their new orders to proceed to Earth Outpost Four for negotiations with the Romulans. Uncertain what to make of that, and worried about Jim's physical and mental state, Bones stayed on the Bridge through the duty cycle, watching.
And so he watched as Chekov shot regular shy smiles at his captain and he and Sulu began a competition as to who could make the silliest face, all the while seeking to make Jim smile, or better yet, laugh. Uhura ordered a snack for Jim behind his back, glaring at Bones when he might have protested giving the captain something as unhealthy as chocolate cake in the midmorning. Scotty stopped by to clap Jim on the shoulder and announce how good it was to have him back on the Bridge. The chief engineer also whispered something into his captain's ear, but Bones didn't know what that conversation was about.
All in all, Jim seemed to be in a good mood, even as he grumbled at Bones for making him eat the healthy salad the doctor ordered for his lunch.
“I let you eat your snack,” Bones said, shoving the tray back into Jim's hands when he tried to give it back to his yeoman with an order for a sandwich. “You need the nutrients.”
“I spent a week eating nothing,” Jim grumbled, but he ate, and Bones ignored it when Uhura smuggled in another chocolaty dessert an hour later.
~o0o~
It was a relief to finally head back to Sickbay once Jim was done on the Bridge and safely dispatched back to his quarters. The only nagging component to the otherwise positive day was the PADD still in Jim's hand as he left, the one with all the unsigned logs for the last two weeks. What was in there could get half the senior staff court-marshaled, Bones included.
He tried to remind himself that whatever happened was fine as long as Jim was all right, saying it over and over to himself as he signed paperwork in his office. But he didn't feel any more at ease when Jim paged him to come to his quarters a few hours later.
Somehow he wasn't surprised to find Jim sprawled in his desk chair, a large bottle of something alcoholic in front of him.
“What's up, Captain?” Bones asked.
“Jim,” Jim corrected, waving Bones to take a seat. “We're not on duty, no call for formality.”
Bones gave him an uncertain look but sat, and he accepted a drink when it was offered.
“Scotty dropped it by while I was on duty, from his latest secret distillation,” Jim told him. “Not half bad.”
Knocking his own shot back almost sent Bones into convulsions. “Milder than his last batch,” he wheezed, wondering how much Jim had had and how fast he could confiscate what was left. This stuff was better used as a sanitizing fluid than a drink. Though the flavor wasn't half bad.
“Need you to review and sign those,” Jim added, pointing at the PADD sitting on his desk, the same PADD Spock gave him earlier that day.
“Thought you said we weren't on duty,” Bones grumbled as a cover for his own nervousness as he grabbed the PADD. Jim didn't say anything, just watched while Bones read, and read, and got very confused. “This isn't accurate,” he finally said, looking curiously at Jim.
“No,” Jim agreed. “But it also won't get anyone in trouble.”
“Why?” Bones asked desperately. “You could have been killed.”
“We all made mistakes,” Jim said with a shrug. “As long as we learned from them ...”
“You sure?” Bones wanted to sign off on this, keep his home and his friends, but Jim was the center of this ship, was his best friend.
“Just sign the damned thing,” Jim grunted, though he didn't look nearly as disgruntled as he sounded. “I promise not to pull anymore dumb practical jokes if you do.”
Bones chuckled. “Agreed.” And he signed.
Jim grinned, his eyes lighting up. “Great, now as long as Spock signs off we're all in the clear and we can get on with our lives.”
“You sure he will?” Bones asked uncertainly.
“Oh yeah,” Jim said with an oddly smug look.
Bones took another drink, sipping it slowly this time. “Thank you, Jim.”
“No, Bones,” Jim countered. “Thank you.” He paused for a moment, knocking back his own drink, but did continue. “No one's ever come looking before.”
“Jim,” Bones gasped. He reached across the desk and gripped Jim's hand. “We'll always come looking,” he promised.
“I know,” Jim replied, catching Bones' eyes with a look of complete confidence. For the first time, Bones could see the difference between his friend's usual cocky mask and true happiness lighting up his eyes. “I know.”