Short one-shot concerning Dr. McCoy and his fears. If any characters seem OOC, please let me know in a review so that I may continue to improve as a writer!
Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek nor make any money from this work.
Bones didn't like seeing people in the med bay. It wasn't that he was lazy or didn't want to be bothered with them; it was that their presence meant something was wrong with them. People in the med bay had a chance of never recovering, and that was something he found very difficult handling. Bones was never good at giving up or letting go, it was his one fault as a doctor and had caused him a lot of strife over the years.
Almost every one of his friends had been through his med bay at one point or another, and he recalled each experience very clearly. Uhura had simply been getting headaches and needed some pain killers, nothing to really worry about, nothing life threatening. But she returned to him when Spock was lying comatose on a bed, the crisp white sheets matching his skin and making him seem like a ghost. Pulling their science officer through had been tough, and it had been a very rough night. But somehow McCoy had managed to do it.
Sulu could be considered simple as well, almost helpful. He had been sparring with one of the engineers, caught up in the middle of a fencing match with a good partner, when he had tripped over one of the newer staff members and sprained his wrist. He and the pilot had talked about medicinal herbs extensively while the doctor patched him up. A very rewarding conversation in McCoy's mind, and the two later agreed to continue it.
Scotty was always in and out of the medical offices, with some injury or another. He was often singed by different pieces of machinery as he was working, or got cut by some careless ensign trying to impress the boss. He'd once come in with a broken ankle because someone dropped a heavy tool on him. McCoy was used to seeing the engineer in his bay, usually regaling the nurses with how idiotic half of his staff was.
One of the scariest moments of his life had been unzipping a body bag and having to stare into the dead face of his best friend. How was he supposed to do an autopsy on someone he cared for so deeply? It was impossible, which is why he had made his way to his desk and fallen into his chair. He thanked whatever was listening that he had lost his will, it meant that he had found a way to save Jim. He had a new appreciation for tribbles after the incident.
But the most severe and stressful night of his life was centered around their youngest crew member. He had warned Jim years ago that Andorian Shingles were no joke, but try explaining to a seventeen year old why he was bleeding out of his eyes while he panicked. Bones wanted nothing more than to forget those images.
Chekov was turning to answer some question Jim had posed and then suddenly collapsed into a heap on the floor. The bleeding had started about an hour after that, and unfortunately Chekov had been awake for that part. He had panicked rather quickly, hyperventilating and screaming in horror as he tried desperately to wipe the thick red substance from his cheeks. It had taken all of them to restrain him just so Bones could sedate him.
A horrible experience he had never wanted to relive. He had never admitted to anyone why he was always so surly to those that made their way to his care. Not until they had all gotten drunk, and he had gotten beyond drunk. He was extremely embarrassed that he had expressed his greatest fear to quite a large group of people. He had expected jibes and teasing, but instead it was very quiet. He had looked up to see that they were all studying him very closely.
It was very quiet as they all stared at him, each of their eyes expressing a different emotion. Regret, sorrow, empathy, and understanding. The silence was broken when Chekov raised his shot glass in the direction of the doctor. The young navigator looked directly at the McCoy, something akin to a miracle for the shy whiz kid.
"You are very good at vhat you do, doctor. And I for one am alvays glad to be in your care." Chekov said seriously, no hint of all the alcohol he had been drinking in his voice. "To you, Dr. McCoy."
The others mimicked the movement, and downed their alcohol silently. McCoy had nodded gruffly and they had never said anything more on the subject. But Bones did notice a significant drop in injuries aboard the Enterprise. And part of him was touched by the fact that they had cared enough to be more careful and make sure the rest of the crew was more conscious of their personal safety.
It was enough to almost make a man smile. Almost.
Hope you enjoyed it! I plan on posting more for Star Trek, so keep an eye out!