Also written for a prompt on LJ. Warning: implied past mpreg, miscarriage!
Jim stopped. He watched and felt his heart break even more than it had. Only when he felt the tear run down his cheek did he even stir. He slowly walked to the old-fashioned rocking chair and paused again. He brushed his finger down the cheek with sea green eyes that solemnly looked back at him. Those eyes fluttered closed with the next breath. He then looked at his husband, who was staring at him while he rocked the baby. Not wanting to break the moment, he cupped Bones' cheek. He moved his cheek against Jim's hand, seeking the comfort Jim was giving. After much maneuvering, Jim sat in the rocker with Bones lying against his chest still rocking the baby. When he felt Bones' shoulders shake, Jim began to make soft soothing shushing sounds and put his arms around Bones and the baby protectively, drawing them closer to his heart. Jim felt Bones drift to sleep and silently thanked any being who was listening for this moment. He felt himself slip into the most restful sleep he had had in months.
Some time later, Jim felt himself being awakened by one of his medical crew members. Jim glanced up, then down at Bones and the baby. The two watched Bones and the baby for a couple of moments before Kari Wilson whispered, "Thanks for watching Madalynne. I hope she wasn't too much trouble, sir." Jim shrugged off the thanks. Kari placed her hand back on her captain's shoulder. "I can't imagine what you and Dr. McCoy have had to do, even tonight. But maybe it's time for you two to talk. It's been five months since the accident. You're both healthy. Dr. McCoy's fine. You just need to talk. Then maybe I'll be repaying the babysitting favor." Jim shook his head no. "Bones won't even look at me now," he gruffly answered. "Make him," Kari responded, "he still feels responsible for losing the baby." Jim looked sharply up at Kari at the comment, who simply held her hands up. Jim glanced back down at Bones, realizing several things at once. So much of the last months they had both been mourning the loss of their unborn child. Individually, rarely together, trying to avoid the other's sympathy. They had been wrong, Jim realized.
Jim shifted Bones into a more sitting position. He sleepily glanced at Kari while instinctively holding the baby closer. Realizing who was standing in front of him, his smile fell but he kissed the petal soft cheek and handed the baby back to his friend. "Nicholas wouldn't come, right," Bones whispered. Kari barely shook her head. Bones nodded once in acknowledgement and got up from the chair going toward the windows to watch the stars streak by. Jim and Kari watched as he wrapped his arms around himself, not seeming aware of his actions. Kari looked back at Jim, gave him a pat on the back for encouragement and took her sleeping daughter back to her quarters. On the way, Kari offered a silent plea that Dr. McCoy and Jim could work things out; she could think of no two people better suited to be parents.
Now alone in their quarters, Jim began to realize how far he and Bones had drifted. Instead of going on to bed as he normally would have, Jim walked over to Bones. Knowing the next few moments were crucial, he kept his hands to himself. Bones looked over at him, his grief apparent on his face. All Jim could utter was, "Not your fault," before they grabbed each other and simply held each other through the tears they had not been able to cry.
The tempest was over; Jim and Bones gently swayed together at the window, not seeing anything, lost in their thoughts while staying wrapped around each other. Each felt the slight shift in mood and emotion, from despairing grief to fragile hope, all brought from one night of rocking in a chair deep in space.