-1A/N: OK, so this is my first fic, and I'm a little unsure if all the voices worked like I want them to. Please, please review, because I am actually planning on correcting stuff based on response for this and future chapters. Also, as is no secret, I killed Chekov. Sorry. I might end up bringing him back, but I felt if just worked for the story. I didn't want to just kill a random Ensign because it just didn't seem personal enough. But please, enjoy the story! And Review!!!

Disclaimer:…I don't own it. If I did, they'd be filming the sequel already. There will be no rest for the cast or crew of Star Trek!!!

Bones watched as Kirk chugged down yet another shot of vodka. This was the 10th shot in the span of an hour, and it was starting to get ridiculous. Bones knew it couldn't help that Jim had barely eaten in the last few days, ever since Ensign Pavel Chekov had died. Much more of this, and Bones was going to start worrying about alcohol poisoning.

"I think that's enough, Jim." Bones said.

"Yeah..." He said as he poured more vodka into his shot glass, and raised the glass up to his lips. Bones grabbed the drink before he could actually pour any of the liquid into his mouth, however.

"Hey!" Jim said.

"I said it's probably enough. We should get you to bed." Bones said in the most compassionate but authoritative voice he could, which he was sure somehow still managed to just come out grumpy. The kid did not look good, and if he didn't keep a watchful eye-scratch that, even if he did keep a watchful eye- Jim was going to do something-or at least attempt something- permanently damaging to his health.

Jim seemed to think for a second about Bones' suggestion of sleep. And having seemed to come to some fool conclusion, he replied, "You're going to have to order me. I used to always have to order him, we all did. Kid worked too damn hard, trying to prove himself. He didn't need to prove himself. He was already the damn whiz kid. We all knew it...What the hell? And he drank vodka too. And tonight's about his memory. So, I am going to sit here. And I am going to keep drinking vodka. And I-" Jim said with a scheming smirk, "am going to have to be ordered to bed." Jim declared with slurred words, sloppily pounding the shot glass back on the table.

Bones sighed. This wasn't going to be easy. not that he thought it would, but hell, this was already hard on him. It was almost ironic, though, Bones thought, as the knowledge seeped from his subconscious to his consciousness that all that was really holding him together was the fact that he knew he had to hold Jim together. As soon as Jim was fine, Bones knew he'd feel it. He'd let his mind replay and replay and replay some more. Over, and over, and over again the visual of Chekov lying on his table, coding, dying, screaming. Kid had to go screaming, didn't he? Couldn't have gone quietly? Couldn't have refrained from whispering some words in Russian that Uhura later translated as "The Lewcarolian Proof from the book" Which was some mathematical proof that was so elegant, math geeks decided it was in some book in Heaven where all the most elegant proofs were written. Sulu later claimed that specific proof (as apparently, there were others "from the book") held some significance and that it was Chekov's favorite equation, or some allusion to some proof, or what the hell ever. Sulu claimed it was something comforting to Chekov, and that he'd meant it as a thank you, a good bye, and an "I'll be OK". Bones doubted it. It was just random firings of the brain, and as a Doctor, he really couldn't bring himself to believe it, no matter what he told Jim.

…Jim.

Bones shook his head. He had a captain to keep together. A damn child Captain, a damned fool child captain, but a captain. And more importantly a friend.

"Come on, Jim. As CMO, I order you to go to bed." Bones said.

"See, that's more like it." Jim replied, smirking, pouring another shot of vodka, drinking it, and attempted to get up, hopefully to get himself to bed. Of course, Bones would never know Jim Kirk's real intentions, because Jim proceeded to engage in a collision course with the floor. Fortunately, Bones managed to intercept Jim before he could make contact.

"Come on, let's go." Bones said, as he slung Jim's arm over his shoulder, wrapping his other arm around his waist, guiding him back to his quarters...and thought better of it. He led Jim away from the mess hall into the sick bay. He wanted to check for alcohol poisoning. There was a low chance of it, but Bones knew he wasn't getting any sleep tonight, and hell, the kid kept his mind off...well...off of the other kid. The dead kid. The kid he couldn't save. Damn kids. Damn fool kids, Bones thought, as he led Jim to the sickbay.

TBC…

If your curious: Lewcarolian is my not so subtle nod to the fact that Lewis Carroll was also a mathematician, so I named a future mathematical proof after him. And the "Proofs from the Book" thing comes from a famous mathematician, Ardesh, who would say that to his students/colleagues when they came up with a particularly elegant proof.

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