Emergency Contact
by Eris
He gets the call in the middle of a lecture on Interspecies Protocol, and it has him bolting to his feet and rushing out of the room. He's a streak of red as he flies across the Academy lawns, ignoring everything around him as his world narrowed to one need—Starfleet Medical. Starfleet Medical. Get the fuck to Starfleet fucking Medical.
Bursting past the front doors of Starfleet Medical, face-flushed and panting heavily, his eyes immediately find a familiar blonde nurse rushing toward him, and he moves to meet her halfway.
"Chris! How is he? What happened? Is he okay? Who's working on him? Is he good? Where is he? What the fuck happened?"
Christine Chapel holds her hands out in surrender at the barrage of questions. "Jesus, calm down, he's fine."
It's the sincerity in her eyes that convinces him that she's telling the truth, so he makes a show of backing down.
She looks relieved when he takes a small step backwards. "Come walk with me." It's an order, one he appreciates because he knows it'll take him to that sonovabitch that scared the fucking life out of him. "The instructor and the slew of cadets who brought him in said that he collapsed in class. But it's nothing to be worried about anymore," she adds when he opens his mouth, "He had appendicitis. Typical non-fatal procedure. Dr. Piper was the one who did the surgery."
"Pike's CMO?" he asks, surprised that a high-ranking doctor would do the operation. He'd been worried that someone with less experience would be messing around in his roommate's body.
No, not just roommate. Not anymore. The bastard had somehow gotten under his skin, latching on like a leech and sucking away at the little amount of I-give-a-damn-about-someone feelings that he had left in him. That little fucker had become someone he could rely on in a pinch, bitching and complaining and whining about the entire thing, but he'd sit on a barstool with him drinking rotgut until they magically woke up in their dorm room with no memories of how they got there.
That sonovabitch had become important to him, he could admit that to himself at the very least.
"Doc insisted," Christine shrugged as they reached the lift. "He's on the second floor, room 247."
He presses the button for the second floor, then turns and gives her a small smile. "Thanks for having them call me, Chris," he tells her earnestly.
She blinked up at him, frowning. "I didn't have them call you," she replies, confusing him. A look of realization flashes onto her face. "You didn't know," she states.
"Know what?" he almost demands.
Christine smiles gently. "Jim," she says softly, "Leonard has you listed as his emergency contact."
The elevator dings, and the doors close, separating them.
Later, sitting in an uncomfortable chair beside a sleeping Bones, he opens his medical file and changes the name under his own emergency contact. After all, his naggy bastard of a best friend was certainly an upgrade from an absentee brother.
I was inspired by dr pepper upper's Blue with Painted Starships.
xoxo,
~E