A/N: I know, I know. What's this? TrekkieLizard has struck again? As usual, I don't own anyone except my pet OC's and even then his face claim is Jared Padalecki and he's the nephew of Admiral Charles Tucker from NX-01. If you get lost or have questions, feel free to ask. Please R&R because I am trying to shake off cobwebs. I love everyone! *hands out cookies and brownies*

Bones rather enjoyed his nickname. Because his wife – no, she was his ex-wife now – had taken everything from him in the divorce. That divorce felt like it had shattered him in some way. Something deep inside had broken and he was unsure of how to fix it. All through the academy with Jim he had seen the younger man going after young women one after another. Bones was the one who would wait in the apartment or casually find something else for him to be doing – like studying at the library. Of course, it was thanks to Jim that he was able to finish his psychiatry degree. He already had his medical degree before the two met, but now he had an additional one to lean on. Then again, neither man particularly took any stock in such things. It was good to have in case it was needed. In space, things like that could be useful anyway. He could definitely see how it could be useful around Jim – the man was a walking, talking case study in his own right. But that was something for another time, another paper. Although he could make good use of his time on the ship by writing a paper. Goodness knew he had seen things most doctors could only dream of being on this ship.

His nickname was, though, rather well deserved. Yes, she left him with nothing but his 'bones', but there was another reason he figured the name was rather appropriate. His star patient, Captain Kirk. Yes, his friend Jim became his patient almost the exact same day the two had met on that transport ship. Aside from Bones wanting to hide in the bathroom all the way there because he knew he would be getting sick anyway, the two had actually hit it off quite well. Leo – although no one called him that anymore – rather enjoyed the companionship of the other man. He went from having no real friends and knowing basically … no one … to having a really close friend on whom he could mostly rely. Bones had also turned into a walking medical chart for his friend – what with all his allergies, it would take at least a large book to actually write everything out. Maybe he was being a bit overdramatic at the thought, but probably not. It was a rather realistic type of consideration because of the things the man was allergic to. Almost anything they put into hypos these days, Jim was allergic to. Everything from anti-allergic medications to simple antibiotics. Painkillers … the list literally did go on and on.

Bones. He was the resident 'saw-bones' of the Enterprise. Now, he rather disliked that sort of name. Saw-bones implied using rather old tools, something used when there were cowboys and Indians across the plains. A small scowl formed on his lips before he licked them – dry. His entire mouth was as if cobwebs had grown there overnight. He was the bone setter for the Captain – no, Jim. It was as if the man had a personal doctor … a concierge doctor. Now if only Bones was paid all that well, then maybe it would really be quite the thought. His mouth was dry but the very corner of his lip was moist. He had noticed that a moment ago. Licking again stiffly, Bones discovered it had a metallic taste to it. Iron … he was bleeding. He forced his eyes open; the entire room was near pitch black. "Lights," he ordered the non-existent computer, trying to sit up and ascertain why he had been lying on his back for so long. Perhaps it was a matter of working out in the gym and he had been knocked unconscious. In which case … someone from his staff should have been with him. Namely because he could not remember working out, thus he probably had a concussion. That would explain the strange twinge behind his eyes anyway.

"Bones."

His name was being called from somewhere at the edges of his vision. He never really did like the dark very much. He did not take much stock in people saying they had good night vision, either. A small blue glow eminated from the area where the voice had come. He worked on figuring out who the voice was. Most likely, it was Jim. If he had really been sparring, then it was probably with that blockhead. Although honestly, he did not see taking the man on in any sort of fight because he was good with his hands. Then again, Spock might have been a bit better. It was a matter of their training styles, Leo supposed. Why had the lights not come on by now? He tried pushing himself up again, keeping his eyes closed tightly as he moved so his head would not swim near as much. What was going on around here? Had something happened to the ship's energy supply or something? That would be his luck, the power to the deck going out after he was knocked out in a sparring fight with Jim or something stupid. Joy. But a sudden hiss changed his mind on a brief sparring fight. There were safeties built into that room and Jim would never really hurt his friend intentionally. "Jim?" He asked hesitantly, a figure moving to his side in an instant, helping him lean against a wall.

"Bones, you're awake!"

The voice was hushed, thankfully, but it also held something else. As if the man – who hated tricorders anyway – had been worried for his friend. Leo patted himself and produced a tricorder from his bag that was still hanging across his frame. Strange, if he had been sparring, then that was the first thing that would have come off. There was no wanting to have yet another one fixed, anyway. After Nurse Chapel took care of a drunken security officer, who broke three tricorders in the process, Leo was perfectly fine with taking extra special care with the ones he had left. Perhaps they were on some away mission, then. He needed to make sure everyone was alright. Jim would probably be torn and tattered yet again if there was some sort of fight involved. Wait a minute, what exactly did happen here? This wall he thought was in a room on the ship was anything but. It was hard, bumpy, some kind of natural rock. Perhaps they were in a cave, then. It was definitely not near as cold as Delta Vega, thankfully. He moved a hand to his lip and followed the trail of blood to his hairline. Ah, that was just lovely. Something ripped beside him, something that sounded like some kind of cloth material. It was then shaken and wrapped around his head. Where was his medical kit? That was probably an easy fix of a laceration.

"Tucker is pretty bad off too."

What was Jim going on about? Oh, someone else was hurt! Leo tried to push himself up, falling back against the hard rocks with a solid thud against his back. He groaned to himself and coughed a bit to catch his breath. His chest felt like it had been crushed, as if some sort of rather large creature sat on it for a while. As if maybe Jim was sitting on it. He moved his hand across his torn uniform blue shirt with a pained sigh. It was probably mostly bruises, but it would feel better later. Tucker … the name was very familiar. On the first Enterprise to fly into space, the NX-01, there was a Commander Charles Tucker – now Admiral or something like that. He was an engineer, but Jim could not have meant that man unless they had traveled back in time or something insane like that because last he heard, Admiral – or whatever – Tucker had been with his wife in Florida somewhere, recruiting and teaching. That was sweet, he supposed. How could his mind remember that and not remember what had happened in the past few minutes. With his chest hurting this bad, though, it had probably been more than a few minutes. There had to be some other Tucker, then, that Jim was referring to. "Tucker …?" He asked, knowing full well his dry lips were still half-stuck together.

"Lieutenant Tucker, he's a science officer under Spock, remember? Something's wrong with him."

If Bones was injured and this Lieutenant Tucker fellow was also injured, then where did Kirk stand? If Bones was injured, then surely Kirk was much, much worse off. The man did seem to attract the bullies who could throw him around. He worked his eyes open again as they became vaguely more acclimated to the light in the room – or cave. Bones looked up at his friend, who was kneeling beside him and hesitantly glancing back behind himself. Perhaps he had been afraid to move either Bones or this Tucker fellow closer to each other. Bones would have to get closer to see what was going on with him. Hell, to even see he needed actual light, not this glowing phone or whatever it was that was emitting the almost sickly blue glow. He was grumpy, thirsty, and needed to take on that old saying of 'physician, heal thyself'. However, priority one was figuring out who all was in here and making sure they were alright. His legs had long since been asleep – so clearly it was not just a few minutes – and he desperately wiggled his toes in a mad attempt to regain control over his legs again. Kirk looked fine outwardly, but he was not so sure. "What about you, Jim?" He asked, his voice perhaps a bit more concerned and friendly than normal. Not that he was not normally friendly around Jim, but on away missions and in front of crewmembers, it was more of a formal affair.

"I'm fine, they hit me with some kind of knock out dart from behind. You need to ask them what it was because I was out like a light with no adverse reactions!"

Ask them what it was? Ask them what it was! Sure, sure, Bones would put that on his to do list, right after figuring out what the hell had happened here! Kirk could have died! Where was he during all of this? Looking more carefully at his friend as the thought of losing him made his chest tighten more, he realized his friend at been fighting. Perhaps whomever it was had gotten the 'drop' on the away team and he tried to protect Lieutenant Tucker and himself. That was rather sweet of Jim to do that, but also rather unnecessary. Pieces were starting to fall back into place, or he thought they were in the least. Because of some strange mission now he was a patient in the hands of his own chronic patient – Captain James T. Kirk. Oh heaven help him, he was going to die. Buried in some sort of tiny cave on some forgotten planet in the middle of nowhere Beta Quadrant. This was beyond great, it was sarcastically brilliant now. At least, though, he would not die alone. Wrapping an arm around his tender mid section before rubbing a hand slowly up his chest, Leo dared to let out a painful sigh. What was to come next?

Would their would be captors come back and offer up empty, cheap threats? Would Lieutenant Tucker be alright? He needed to ensure Kirk really had no reaction to whatever they had given the poor man. He needed to be at Tucker's side and ensuring the man's safety. He needed to do those nurse-type things where they actually attempted to help the patient, calm them down. Hell, he never did that. He was rather honest with his patients; tell them when it was going to hurt like hell so they could brace themselves. On the most part that was Jim, because there were only about two pain medications he was not allergic to, or so it seemed. Things were rather quite here, in this room. Something else was bound to happen. Something would break the silent reverie. And there it was. A scream from behind Jim had Leo pull away from the wall, sitting straight up and hissing under his breath with the movement. Had that come from Lieutenant Tucker?