This is a McKirk story. I don't know anything about radiation poisoning and as I wrote this around 1 in the morning, I didn't do any research. I just went off of Chris Pine's acting during Into Darkness. I'm sorry if this is horribly inaccurate. I'm trying my hand at writing slightly different styles depending on the situation and scene. I don't know how I did so I would really appreciate some feedback.

Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek

Warnings: Major spoilers for Into Darkness. A few swears...

This is a companion piece to Bones will Bleach, which is from Bones's point of view. They need not be read together.


Jim knew he was dying. He knew that from the moment he'd opened the door to the warp core. He hadn't needed Scotty to tell him that it was suicidal, that he was going to die if he went in that room, but Jim knew that without power, the ship was going to crash and the chances of him surviving the inevitable collision with earth were small. At least this way he might be able to save the crew. And Bones. He'd be able to save Bones.

When he'd first gone in, it had felt like he was walking waist deep in water, his legs already sluggish. Every second he spent in the warp core, his movements got that little bit slower, that little bit more tiring. By the time he'd gotten to the holdings, it felt as if he'd just run a couple consecutive marathons.

By then, Jim barely knew what he was doing. His legs were kicking out instinctively and his hands were curled tightly around a metal bar. Where he was finding the strength to do this, he would never know, but it almost gave up.

Almost.

With one last kick, Jim felt himself fly and crash into the ground, the surge of energy having ripped his hands from the metal. He groaned, but he barely felt anything, the radiation having numbed any sort of outside pain.

The rest passed by in a blur. Somehow he managed to crawl back through the tunnel, towards the door and safety. Scotty was kneeling there when he collapsed by the door, probably had been since he'd regained consciousness, with an unreadable expression on his face.

"Captain."

"...Ey Scotty."

"I'll call Dr. McCoy immediately." His hand went to the communicator at his waist, but Jim stopped him.

"Spock... Call. Spock."

"Captain?"

"Not Bones. I can't... He can't... Call Spock."

"Alright Captain."

Jim closed his eyes for a moment. His head was pounding and there was a sense of nausea that he was trying to push down. He coughed a few times and the familiar taste of blood erupted on his tongue. It was faint yes, but Jim was hyperaware of the tangy taste. He hoped that Scotty didn't call Bones. He didn't think that he'd be able to face his fiancé.

If Bones were to come down, Jim would regret doing this. He would beg the doctor to help him, to keep him alive, and Jim didn't want to be remembered as a man that had begged and sobbed before dying alone.

He also didn't think that he'd be able to handle being so close to Bones and not being able to touch him. Opening the door now would result in the whole ship beig irradiated and in his right mind Jim didn't want to do that. If Bones were on the other side he would seriously consider it.

But the main reason he didn't want Bones there was because it would pain the the man beyond reason that he couldn't help. Jim had comforted Bones more than once when the doctor had woken up in the middle of the night screaming because a patient of his had died. He already knew that Bones would be greatly hurt because of this latest stunt and Jim didn't want to see the look on his face. It was better this way. Spock was better than Bones.

The Vulcan was fast, Jim would give him that. It seemed like only seconds had passed since Scotty had made the call to the bridge.

Jim didn't really know what he was saying, there were so many things that he wanted to get off his chest, but so little time to say them. He wanted to tell Scotty that it wasn't his fault that Jim was dying, that he'd tried his best and that in the end it was Jim's need to be the hero that would kill him.

He wanted to apologize to Chekov for forcing him into the role of Chief Engineer when he wasn't qualified for it, putting far too much pressure on the young man. Speaking of Chekov, he also wanted to tell him to look after himself and Sulu. Those two were not nearly as subtle as they thought they were.

He wanted to tell Spock that he was a good captain but that if he put aside logic sometimes, he would be a great one. That he wouldn't trust the Enterprise to anyone else.

Most of all, he wanted to tell Bones that he loved him.

His whole body was on fire, and he gasped as he felt every nerve ending scream in a silent plea for the pain to stop. The radiation was getting to him. Jim took another raspy breath, and opened eyes that he hadn't known were closed.

Spock was crying. That wasn't right. Vulcans weren't supposed to feel. It must be him. Spock would never cry in front of him. No, it must be him.

Jim tried to say everything that he wanted to say. It was difficult. He was getting tired. So tired. He just wanted to sleep. The darkness was creeping up on him. His vison tunneling...

Suddenly gripped by the fear of dying alone, Jim began to fight against the inevitable, trying to hold on long enough to die with someone beside him. Instead, he lifted his hand to glass, a silent plea to Spock. The Vulcan mirrored the gesture, except with his fingers spread in a traditional Vulcan salute.

Jim wanted Bones now. He wanted to die with Bones. He wanted to touch him one last time. He wanted to kiss him. He wanted to tell him that they should have gotten married and not waited. He wanted Bones.

"...Ones..." The well used word escaped his lips as he felt his eyes give up the fight to stay open and he finally gave into the darkness that he'd been dodging for ages. Probably his whole life even. Death had finally caught up to him...


Beep... Beep... Beep... Beep... Beep... Beep... Beep...

Jim groaned a little at the sound of the alarm clock and tried to lift his arm to shut it off. It wouldn't move. He just tried to ignore it instead, hoping that it would turn off by itself.

Beep... Beep... Beep... Beep... Beep... Beep... Beep... Beep... Beep...

It was speeding up and if there was anything James Kirk hated, it was alarm clocks that wouldn't shut up. He tried to lift it again but couldn't. He found that a little strange, but it was nothing that Bones couldn't fix so he gave up, concentrating instead on opening his eyes.

Beep... Beep... Beep... Beep...Beep... Beep... Beep... Beep... Beep... Beep... Beep... Beep...

It was speeding up even more as he opened his eyes. His vision swam. He could barely see anything, it was all so bright. Bones was speaking, saying something about death and serum and medical terms that Jim couldn't wrap his mind around. He was about to test his voice and ask Bones what the hell was going on when it him

Oh.

He wasn't actually supposed to be here. He was supposed to be rotting in the ground, six feet under with only the worms for company, not in a hospital with Bones running a tricorder over his face.

Bone's tone of voice suddenly made so much sense.

Jim wanted to grab Bones's hand and stop the flickering movements but he was too tired to move. He made sure to answer any questions that Bones asked, but really he was waiting for the storm to come. This was calm Bones. This was hurt Bones. This was fucking pissed Bones.

The argument never came and Jim found himself talking to Spock, thanking him for subduing Khan and getting the blood that had saved his life. Really he was just waiting for the conversation to end so that he could talk to Bones alone.

The doctor was fiddling with something on the other side of the room, looking busy, but Jim knew better. He was stalling, trying to appear busy when actually he wasn't doing anything.

Spock appeared to have picked up on it as well, as he raised an eyebrow and left, saying that he had to return to the Enterprise and oversee repairs. The Vulcan showed himself out.

Jim remained silent for a few minutes, waiting for the inevitable explosion from Bones. It never came, so he took it upon himself to get his fiancé to actually talk to him.

"Bones..."

"Yes Jim." And Jim knew that he'd fucked this up pretty badly. Bones was trying to mask the pain in his voice, but he was doing a pretty bad job of it and Jim sighed as he tried to think of a way to fix the problem. It was pretty hard to think of a way to fix a problem like dying. He had to try though.

"C'mere."

Jim held out a hand and smiled a little as Bones sat down in the chair and took it. He rubbed his thumb over the slightly scrapped knuckles, starting when he felt a drop of water fall on his pinky. Looking up into Bones's face only confirmed what he suspected.

Doctor Leonard McCoy was crying.

It took some effort, but Jim managed to lift his other hand up high enough to wipe away the slow rolling tears. Bones shook it off and Jim felt another stab of hurt at the fact that he'd lost some of Bones's trust. The white sleeve of the medical personnel replaced his hand.

"I wanted you there you know, I really did. But I didn't want to die with you there but unable to touch you." He coughed a couple times, a raggedy sound caused by speaking too much with a throat dry from unuse. "I was selfish Bones." He waited a little for the doctor to say something, but the silence just dragged on. Jim tried not to get too worried as the length of time grew longer and longer, but he realized that Bones needed time.

Suddenly strong arms were lifting him up so that there was a little more room on the narrow hospital bed. Bones slipped in beside him and they fit together like puzzle pieces, Bones face buried in Jim's neck, an arm slung tight around his hips. Jim brought his hand up to card through Bones hair, in the way he knew would relax the doctor.

"Don't ever do that to me again."

"Never Bones. Never." And he meant every word of it.


So, was it good? Bad? Please let me know what I could improve!

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