Cancer. 6 simple letters that at one time meant you were either born between June 21 and July 22 or death was watching over you, ever vigilant. Waiting for the last shaky breath to escape your withered body. But lets not get carried away here, this isn't the year 2000, wars aren't fought over petty things like oil or drugs, the phrase 'totally dude' no longer passes the lips of adolescents, and cancer, well cancer is far from a death sentence. The treatment's still the same. Chemo. The hair loss, still there too.
People always told Dr. Leonard "Bones" McCoy he had a cynical look at life. But can you blame him? With a hellion of an ex-wife, multiple phobias, and having no where else left in this world but outer space! Space for christ sake! The only thing he had left were his bones, and even they were playing wicked nasty games on him these days. Bone cancer. The irony alone almost killed him.
He rubbed a rough hand across his tired eyes, his whole being ached. Stacks and stacks of PADDs mocked him from the corner of his desk. Why'd he have to became a damn doctor, huh? Half the time your watching you shipmates and even yourself dying and the other half your filling out paper work about it. He needed a warm bed or maybe a glass of Jack Daniels, because there was never a job his good old pal Jack couldn't handle. A soft knock at the door got his attention.
"Bones?" His captain and long time friend, James T. Kirk, stood in the doorway. He shifted nervously from foot to foot. It was a little over 3 months since Bones' diagnosis had come back. He kept it secret as long as he could but it's kinda hard to explain away sudden hair loss to the one person who could kick your ass in a poker game cause he can read your face better than you or maybe your own mother. "You got a minute?"
Dumb question. All Bones has is time. "For you Jim," He tries to force a smile and as usual it comes out more as a grimace, "I have all damn year. What'd you need?" Jim tries to appear casual, too casual for Bones liking. "Out with it Jim, I'm not exactly high on patience today. You got something to say please just say it." A familiar grin lightened Jim's features.
"You may have lost your hair, Bonesy but you still got that winning personality of yours." Jim's smiled disappeared as he his friend attempts to run his fingers absentmindedly through his hair. He looked almost embarrassed when he realized there was almost nothing left to run through. Kirk diverted his eyes as he felt that familiar tightness in his chest. The one he felt every time he had to see Bones struggle to get out of his chair, or shuffle down the hallways at an alarmingly slow pace. "How you feeling today Bones?" He found it impossible to keep the worry from his voice.
"Me, Jim? I feel great, about ready to start training for a few marathons." Sarcasm laced his every word and he could have just kicked himself. What was he doing? This was Jim he was talking to not the pointy eared hobgoblin or the Russian whiz kid. "I'm sorry." he mutters.
Jim pushes himself away from the doorframe and takes a seat on the desk right in front of where Dr. McCoy is sitting. 'Nah, don't worry about it." he whispers. His pale blue eyes sparkle with affection as he reaches down to stroke the pads of his fingers across he older friends cheekbones.
"Jim?" Panic began to rise in his gut, what was Jim doing? Yeah of course Bones had longed for his younger friend but Jim was a ladies man through and through. And yet he leaned into the younger man's touch, not finding the mental strength to push him away.
"You really scared me Bones, with the cancer I mean. I know that in this day and age that it's hardly a big deal but… But we're not as young as we use to be are we?" Truer words had never been spoken, it the span of 3 months Leonard had looked as if he'd aged 3 years and when Bones truly took at look at his captain he saw almost his mirror image. Sunken eyes, pale skin, and weight loss. If it weren't for the captain's full head of honey blonde hair they'd look just about like brothers. The pad of his thumb lightly skims the full bottom lips of the older man. "What would I do if I ever lost you Bones?" Maybe Bones was mistaken but he could have sworn he saw the wetness of Jim's unshed tears behind his eyes. His captain never cried, sure he drank himself into oblivion or punch the bag around a little when he was upset but he never cried. "I've wasted three years of my life afraid of being with you, afraid of what everyone else would think." He exhales a shaky breath. "I love you." His voiced laced with the tears the finally made the way down his tanned cheeks. Not wanting to waste anymore time he pulls McCoy toward him, smashing their lips together.