AN: I wrote this because I was a little disappointed with how Bones reacted to Jim being marooned on a dangerous, remote planet in the middle of space. In my head I can't imagine Bones just sitting back and not saying a word as his best friend hurtles down to his possible death, so this is my interpretation of the situation. Also, my first ST fanfiction, so critique and feedback is appreciated. Enjoy!
On His Own
McCoy was at Kirk's side the moment he hit the ground.
As he pressed his fingers into Kirk's neck, McCoy was relieved to feel Kirk's heartbeat strong under the skin. The younger man lay unconscious under the effect of the Vulcan nerve pinch; McCoy recognised the technique from his classes, though he'd never seen it performed. Kirk had succumbed in less than a second, though not before he was able to take down at least one of the men restraining him; McCoy ignored the small twinge of pride in favour of the boiling irritation at Jim's stupidity. Kirk had always been too headstrong; he'd never quite learned how to pick his battles, and as always he was now paying the price for it. The men Kirk had attacked were now back on their feet, looking to Spock for their next instruction.
"Get him off this ship," Spock commanded sharply, turning swiftly on his heel. McCoy gaped after him with an expression of disbelief and confusion.
"Spock, what're you- hey!" McCoy jerked as a large hand closed tightly over his arm, pulling him to his feet and away from Jim. He tried to wrench his arm free, but the strong grip tightened painfully and he swallowed back a cry. Spock turned again to face McCoy, and though his expression was neutral McCoy could see anger shining in the Vulcan's dark eyes.
"As acting Captain, it is my responsibility to hand out the appropriate punishment to those who disobey my orders. I would advise you to cease your resistance before I have no choice but to punish you also." Spock was once again in control of his emotions; the anger had dimmed, and his voice was calm and commanding.
McCoy stopped his struggling to meet Spock's serious gaze. "What are you going to do to him?"
"Cadet Kirk has shown a clear lack of respect for authority by ignoring my orders and has attempted mutiny, causing harm to members of my crew. I cannot allow him to remain on the ship."
"So what, you're just gonna throw him out into space?" McCoy ground out, and Spock's eyebrows raised slightly.
"That is precisely what I intend to do, Doctor."
McCoy flinched slightly in shock as his eyes moved to Kirk's limp form in the arms of a nearby security officer. Those words confirmed what Spock was planning, though he couldn't quite believe it; marooning was an extreme punishment, and not a common one. Abandoning someone on a remote planet in the middle of space... to McCoy, who hated the darkness and danger even from within the confines of a starship, it seemed unnecessarily cruel. Spock must be seriously pissed, and even McCoy though knew that there was nothing he could say to prevent the situation, it didn't stop him from trying.
"Spock, listen, I know you and Jim started off on the wrong foot, and I don't blame you- hell, I'll admit he's a pain in the ass, and I'm his best friend. I know he needs to be punished, but not like this. Throw him in the brig, or bring him to medical and let me keep him sedated until this is all over. You can't just throw him out, damn it, we don't even know what's out there!"
Spock listened to McCoy's rant in silence. When the doctor had finished, and the eyes of the entire bridge crew were watching them, waiting for him answer, he replied with a cool tone of finality.
"Then you'd better make sure he's prepared for anything, Doctor."
McCoy was escorted through the winding corridors by the two security guards, one with his hand still wrapped around his arm with enough force that McCoy knew he'd wake up tomorrow with fingerprint bruises, and the man carrying Jim following closely behind. Spock had ordered security to stay with McCoy until Jim was secured and safely ejected from the ship, in case McCoy attempted to revive his friend or rescue him from the situation. It wasn't necessary; McCoy knew that any attempt to wake Jim would only infuriate the Vulcan further, and there was no point in them both being stranded. This was the only way McCoy could help his friend.
They reached the row of escape pods, and McCoy watched as the man dumped Jim none-too-gently into the nearest one. McCoy noticed that the guard's nose was swollen and crusted with dried blood. He shook his head and stepped over to the nearest computer station.
"Computer, what is the nearest planet to our current location?"
"Planet: Delta Vega," a robotic voice informed him. "Class M planet. Unsafe."
McCoy went cold with fear. A picture filled the screen; the surface of the planet was completely white with snow and ice. A frozen wasteland. His eyes caught a list entitled 'KNOWN NATIVE SPECIES'. It was a list as long as McCoy's forearm, and at least two-thirds of the list were marked as 'PREDATORY'. The planet was classified as unhabited by humans, though the map indicted the location of an abandoned Starfleet outpost. It looked like hell, and it was exactly what McCoy had been afraid of. He let off a loud, frenzied stream of curses (aimed at Spock, Jim and the universe in general), and pressed a small button on the neighbouring communicator panel. "McCoy to medical. I need a standard medical kit, a tricorder and a duffel bag," he paused, "and thermal clothing." The request for clothing was an odd one, but McCoy was aware that in his current attire, Kirk wouldn't last a day in the freezing conditions. "Also, send over a three day emergency supply of food and water," he wasn't sure when the rescue party would arrive, and couldn't risk Jim dying of starvation or thirst before help could reach him, "and a PADD," he barked before releasing the button and returning his attention to the man in the pod. Jim's mouth was slack and his skin pale; if McCoy's knowledge was correct he would remain unconscious for a few more hours, long after his predicted arrival at Delta Vega.
"I'm sorry kid, this is all I can do right now," McCoy muttered, brushing a few strands of hair from Kirk's forehead in an uncharacteristic display of tenderness.
He knew that Spock would follow the proper regulations and alert authorities of Kirk's whereabouts. If Kirk remained in the safety of the pod and waited until he was recovered it would all be fine, but McCoy knew Jim Kirk; patience wasn't his strongest quality, and, more than anything, he hated being in a powerless position. It was what had spurred him into cheating on the Kobayashi Maru, and the reason McCoy's heart was hammering away in his chest. It would be just like Jim to ignore all safety protocol and go gallivanting about a dangerous planet just to come face-to-face with one of the many creatures that would view him as a tasty meal. McCoy had to face the very real possibility that Jim could be injured or even killed somewhere down on that bleak expanse of ice.
"Just... try not to get yourself killed, alright?" he whispered, giving Jim's shoulder a gentle squeeze, and was met with the same silence. It wasn't like Jim to be quiet; he was always talking, full of so much energy and enthusiasm that McCoy couldn't keep up. At night, it was different; excitement and animation was replaced by thrashing arms and low moans, hands trembling and gripping the sheets as Jim struggled against the nightmares that haunted his sleep. McCoy had only seen this a few times, but it had been enough; Jim cried and trembled and fought desperately against the enemies in his dreams, and McCoy could do nothing but watch until it was over and Jim's body gave into exhaustion. It was terrifying, but at least Jim had seemed alive; now, he looked too peaceful; if it weren't for the almost imperceptible rise and fall of his chest, and the soft, steady sound of his breathing, McCoy would've thought Jim was dead. Without thinking, he brushed a hand carefully over Jim's lips, reassured when he felt warm breath against his fingers.
McCoy was startled when he was abruptly spun around and a bundle was shoved into his arms. It was the supplies he'd requested. He cleared his throat, embarrassed by his own show of emotion; he'd temporarily forgotten that he was not alone. The man who'd handled the equipment gave McCoy an arrogant smirk, and McCoy was almost glad in that moment that Kirk had given him a bloodied nose. He scowled and bent to his knees, retrieving the tricorder, and scanned Jim. One of the guards muttered something irritably to his companion and McCoy glowered. "You can speed things along by packing all that," he waved an arm at the pile next to him, "into that bag." There was a beat before one man knelt down with a grumble. McCoy read Jim's vitals, satisfied that there would be no lasting adverse effects, and then glanced over at medical kit in the guard's grasp. "Hold on, lemme see that." McCoy snatched the kit and, after a quick rummage, removed one of the metal hyposprays before handing it back to the bemused guard. "The idiot's allergic to that one," he murmured, the tone of his voice not quite matching his words.
When everything was packed and ready to go, McCoy took a step back and allowed the guards to pull the metal door closed, obscuring Jim's features from view. He swallowed, nausea rising as a voice in his head reminded him that he'd maybe never see that familiar face again; never see that mischevious smile or those bright blue eyes. The doctor sighed heavily and scrubbed a hand over his own face, feeling a sudden weariness wash over him. A hand on his back guided him away from the room and he complied without objection, uneasiness settling heavily in his stomach.
McCoy had done all he could do, and now Kirk was on his own.
AN: I may add another chapter to this story, starting when Jim lands on the planet, so let me know what you think!