Previously called 'Dammit Jim' but I changed the title to make sure it fitted in with site guidelines.
So I recently saw Star Trek: Into Darkness for the second time and it is awesome! However, I discovered that knowing what is going to happen does not make Kirk's death any easier the second time, so I was still a sobbing wreck.
I had the idea for this ever since I came out of the cinema the first time and have been developing it since. It's basically Bones' reaction to Jim's death. Because I'm a horrible person who likes to exploit character's vulnerability and emotions. This fic is intended as friendship, mostly because I adore the friendship between Bones and Jim and also because I ship Spirk as oppose to McKirk. But you can interpret how you want :). Also, I couldn't decide on an ending, so there are two alternative versions.
Hope you enjoy it!
Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek, it belongs to Gene Roddenberry, nuTrek belongs to JJ Abrams etc.
He's there when Scotty comms the med-bay with the words "There was nothing I could do Doctor. He's d-" and can't quite finish the words. He's standing there staring uncomprehendingly at the body that can't be Jim but somehow is when Spock beams down to intercept or kill Khan. He doesn't care which but if he did, he'd be willing the half-Vulcan's hands to close around the bastard's neck and squeeze every last breath out of his lungs.
They say the dead look like they're sleeping, peacefully, above the troubles of the world they've left behind. 'Bullshit' McCoy thinks savagely. Jim isn't sleeping, he's dead dammit and he doesn't look at peace, he looks like he died in pain. Hurting and scared. McCoy swallows back a sob. He wasn't there; he wasn't even there when his best friend (practically his only friend, a snide voice at the back of his head chips in) drew his final, painful breath. And that hurts. That really hurts because it's always been Jim and Bones, right from that fateful shuttle ride where two outcasts who had given up on the world somehow decided not to give up on each other. He can't quite pinpoint the moment a few months later when he knew that he and Jim had become a package deal, that he couldn't just abandon this cocky, perpetually optimistic, brilliant kid. He can't pinpoint the exact moment Jim Kirk got under his skin. They've done everything since then together, McCoy has patched him up from more bar fights than he cares to remember, he's been there when the bar fights got more and more infrequent and then stopped, he's been there when Jim's been completely drunk, sobbing about a dark past he's never quite explained, he was even there throughout that Kobayashi Maru disaster for fuck's sake but he wasn't there when his friend died!
Dammit Jim. Dammit it all to hell.
Damn you, James Kirk, for making grumpy, cynical Leonard McCoy give a damn.
'Damn you for making me care.'
It wasn't supposed to be like this. James. T. Kirk was supposed to grow into a great captain. James. T. Kirk was supposed to make history. And Leonard McCoy was supposed to be there at his side.
Dammit Jim, you were supposed to live!
A million things he will never say, a million things they will never do, a million adventures they will never have disappear into a world of what should have should been. The loss of Jim is too staggering to comprehend, a catastrophic blow that has left his crew and his friends reeling. Scotty is in shock, Uhura is struggling to keep her professional composure, Spock has succumbed to the most human and primal of emotions and Bones is left lost, staring down at the shell of a man with so much life and so much potential.
'You were brilliant kid.' He thinks as he stares down at the all too familiar face, at the lids closed over the bright, bright blue eyes that will never fix on him again. 'You were brilliant and I hope you knew that, you idiot and dammit Jim, I need you, don't leave me. Don't be dead Jim Kirk. Don't you dare.'
There are tears pricking at the back of his eyes but he won't cry, not even over Jim because he's a doctor dammit, a professional and he can't let this get the better of him. He's seen a fair few dead bodies in his time as a doctor, all them so still, all of them so cold but he can barely stand to look at Jim's. He's spent far too much time standing here unable to do anything but stare blankly, uncomprehendingly down at his best friend's body.
Leonard McCoy turns away from his fallen captain, his fallen friend, crosses to his nearby desk and collapses, defeated, into a chair, his head in his hands.
Jim is dead.
Alternative ending:
There are tears pricking at the back of his eyes but he won't cry, not even over Jim because he's a doctor dammit, a professional and he can't let this get the better of him. He's seen a fair few dead bodies in his time as a doctor, all them so still, all of them so cold but he can barely stand to look at Jim's. He's spent far too much time standing here unable to do anything but stare blankly, uncomprehendingly down at his best friend's body.
Leonard McCoy turns away from his fallen captain, his fallen friend, crosses to his nearby desk and collapses, defeated, into a chair, his head in his hands.
A moment later, he looks up as a long-forgotten, supposedly dead Tribble stirs. As he shouts frantically for a cryo-tube, something strange is stirring and filling him with warmth and conviction, spurring him on.
Hope.
Hope you enjoyed it; please review and tell me what you think- which ending worked best? I couldn't decide whether to go for a sense of hopeless finality or give McCoy a break and end with the discovery of the Tribble as oppose to just before.
-TheWordThief