Despite McCoy's temperament, it was fair to say that he wasn't a violent man. He had rarely gotten into any fights throughout his life and if a situation were to arise where fighting became necessary, McCoy was more likely to go for help then hold his ground. It wasn't that McCoy was scared or that he didn't know how to take care of himself, it was just that fighting went against his very nature. He was a doctor and his hands were meant to heal, not hurt.

So when McCoy found himself sitting in a jail cell, his soon-to-be dead best friend, (if he had anything to say about it that is), sitting next to him with a shit eating grin on his face, McCoy had to stop and wonder what happened to his life.

It wasn't hard to pin point exactly when things started going crazy in McCoy's life. It started eight months ago, the day he'd defended James T. Kirk and apparently signed on to ride out the insane storm that was Jim's life with him.

That day had started out completely normally. It was a Monday which meant that the first class McCoy had to endure was Deep Space Astrophysics 101. McCoy hated that class. No matter how many times McCoy went to see his advisor and insist that he was a doctor dammit not a goddamn scientist, it didn't seem to make a difference. Every cadet in the Starfleet Academy was required to take this course, and no amount of griping on McCoy's part was going to spare him the agony.

Unfortunately for him, he was just going to have to sit through this course and pray that he passed. It wasn't as if McCoy weren't an intelligent man, he considered himself of above average intelligence in fact, it was just that he and science did not mix. It would be like forcing a Vulcan to take a class in emotions- it just didn't work.

So, with the ever-present feeling of dread, McCoy walked into his DSA 101 class Monday morning and took his usual seat in the front of the classroom. McCoy tended to avoid sitting in the middle or back because that was where the younger cadets, all arrogance and smugness, sat and McCoy was really too old to put up with that crap.

That day, the professor had walked into the class and started his lecture like he always did. McCoy suffered his way through it, and when the bell rung to signal the end of class he practically sprung out of his seat in an attempt to escape the classroom.

He made it out into the hallway and then found his way blocked by a large ring of students, jeering loudly and encouraging whatever confrontation they had surrounded. McCoy rolled his eyes, grumbling to himself as he tried to shove his way through them. That was one thing McCoy hated about the academy; it was exactly like being in college again. McCoy found himself surrounded by all the stupid pranks and drama again and it really was something he had been hoping to avoid.

Apparently, that was not going to happen so McCoy elbowed his way through several younger cadets, giving the stink eye to anyone who attempted to shove him back or even looked at him the wrong way, when he finally caught sight of the altercation.

McCoy had expected to see two young cadets fighting over something stupid. He expected it to be over as soon as a teacher walked by and decided that it was none of his business. McCoy was more than happy to walk away and ignore the whole thing.

Then he caught sight of what was happening and realized how wrong he was. In the middle of the circle of students there was one cadet apparently attempting to fight off four others. And he was losing. Badly.

It wasn't for lack of trying though. McCoy only stood there and watched for a few seconds but he could see that a fire raged inside that cadet like no other and he put up a fight that would have knocked a man three times his size on their ass if it had been a fair fight.

But one of the cadets fighting this kid had a knife and the other three were doing their best to pummel him into the ground. McCoy wasn't one to get involved in things that weren't his business, but his instincts as a doctor immediately kicked in when he realized that that cadet's nose was broken, his left eye was swollen shut and one of his hands were curled protectively around his upper right arm.

"Unbelievable." McCoy muttered in irritation. "Get out of my way!" He barked at several cadets, shoving his way through the crowd once more to get to the fight. The cadets raised their eyebrows at him or shoved him forward, cheering him on and apparently assuming that he wanted to get in on the beat down.

When McCoy finally made it through the throng of students he was met with a wave of hostility from the cadet holding the small pocket knife. "You want a piece of this?" The guys asked, indicating the cadet who was still trying to fight off three guys.

McCoy drew himself up to his full height and tried to sound as authoritative as possible, despite the fact that they were the exact same rank. "Get out of here right now before I call Captain Pike and get your asses suspended!" McCoy shouted, wincing at the loud crack that came from the cadet as he was shoved to the ground and landed painfully on his hand. If the moan he let out was anything to go by, something had just been broken.

The crowd of students went silent at McCoy's threat and suddenly the four cadet's attentions were on him. McCoy tried to swallow the instinctive fear he was feeling and glared at the cadets threateningly.

The four exchanged disbelieving looks and smirked. The one with the knife stepped forward, a look of undisguised amusement in his eyes. "You're threatening me?" He demanded, sizing McCoy up with a quick sweep of his eyes and detecting no threat.

McCoy narrowed his eyes at this and reached into his bag, wrapping his hand around one of the emergency hypos he kept there. For once, McCoy was very thankful that he was paranoid enough to carry these things around. "You're damn right I am." He growled. "I'm a doctor and that kid is officially my patient so either get out of my way or I'll make you get out of my way."

The amusement fell from the guys' eyes and he glared at McCoy, his free hand curling into a fist. McCoy was struck with a vague sense of familiarity and realized that he shared a class with this guy. Cadet Jameson, McCoy thought he was called.

"You really think you can take us?" Jameson asked arrogantly, looking at McCoy as if he were very stupid.

"Nope." McCoy said simply, whipping the hypo out and injecting Jameson in the neck before he knew what happened. He dropped to the ground instantly, out cold. It had just been a simple sedative but no one else knew that. The other three started to rush him but McCoy held out another hypo warningly, his other hand curled into a fist as adrenaline raced through his system. "Unless you want to end up like you're friend here, I suggest you beat it."

"What's going on over here?" A voice called from outside the crowd and the effect was instantaneous. The three cadets that had been looking rather fond of the idea of attacking McCoy bolted while the rest of the crowd dissipated with equal speed.

McCoy walked over to the fallen cadet and looked up, instantly recognizing his Deep Space Astrophysics professor. Never in his life did McCoy think he would ever be as grateful as he was right then to see that man. "What happened?" He asked sharply, walking over and staring down at Jameson and the other cadets' prone forms, his eyes narrowing in on the hypo still clutched in McCoy's hand. McCoy quickly rattled off the situation and the professor's expression darkened. "Very well. I will call security and have them escort Cadets Jameson and Kirk to the hospital. You are free to go, but if security has any questions I will give you a call."

"Yes sir." McCoy responded, grateful the chaos was over. He felt his body shaking as he came down from the adrenaline high and let out a long sigh. He really was too old for this shit.

Feeling as though his civic duty had been more then fulfilled McCoy was more then content to walk away from the scene and not think about it again. However, as he rose to leave Cadet Kirk's uninjured hand shot out and grasped his wrist with surprising strength.

McCoy stopped, raising his eyebrows at the cadet though he doubted he could see anything past the stars that must be dancing across his vision. "What?"

"I- can't go-" Kirk began, and then stopped as a coughing fit racked his body. McCoy had the instinctive urge to take out his tricorder and start scanning Kirk's injuries but stopped himself. He wasn't on duty right now and, despite what he'd told Jameson, Kirk wasn't his patient.

"What are you trying to say, kid?" McCoy asked, somewhat impatiently. He had other classes to get to today and tons of studying to do if he expected to survive the semester. It was the second semester of his first year and McCoy hated to admit it but he was already falling behind, and having to waste time intervening for something like this really didn't help him any.

"No hospitals." The Cadet finally spat out, his voice firm despite its shaky undertones.

McCoy frowned, wondering if Kirk had some kind of concussion. It was highly possible considering the state of his face and the number of blows he must have taken to the head. "Don't worry, medics will be here soon." McCoy tried to say reassuringly, his voice gruff as he tugged on his wrist. Kirk held on with an iron grip and McCoy sighed, wondering how long it was going to take those freaking medics to get there.

The Cadet didn't appear assured by this in the slightest and shook his head frantically, then groaned at the pain that action caused. "No." He insisted, struggling to sit up.

"Whoa, are you out of your damn mind?" McCoy exclaimed, looking around for the professor but he had gone off to call medical and security a few minutes ago. McCoy sighed in aggravation and pushed against Kirk's shoulders, forcing him to lie back against the floor again. "You have to wait for help, you probably have a concussion."

"Leave m' alone." Kirk muttered awkwardly through his swollen mouth, finally letting go of McCoy's wrist in favor of shoving his hands away so he could sit up.

McCoy let him go for a second, figuring that he would just fall on his ass again and solve McCoy's problem anyways but his expectations were proved wrong for the second time that day. Not only did Kirk manage to sit up, he then proceeded to clamber onto his feet where he swayed unsteadily for several seconds before McCoy's reflexes kicked in.

McCoy shot up, grabbing Kirk just in time as his knees gave out. Kirk swung an arm over McCoy's shoulders and leaned on him heavily, his breathing distressed. "Hey... I know you." Kirk panted after a moment and McCoy grunted, shifting his bag slightly and pulling Kirk closer before he fell on his face.

"Really?" McCoy asked sarcastically, largely uninterested. He glanced up and down the hallway again; really wishing the medics would hurry up and sedate this guy already so he could move on with his day.

"Bones." Kirk said simply and McCoy frowned in confusion.

"Sorry kid but you have me confused with someone else." McCoy said easily and Kirk tried to shake his head, then realized that was a terrible idea and stopped. He didn't speak for a few seconds, trying to quell the nausea rising in his throat.

"McCoy, right? You told me on that shuttle that all you had left was your bones." Kirk explained. His sentence was a little slurred but McCoy caught the drift of it and frowned, an indistinct memory of that conversation popping up.

"You're James Kirk?" McCoy asked incredulously. Jim tried to grin at him but the movement caused him to wince and the smile fell flat, turning into something more similar to a grimace.

"The one and only." Jim said brightly and McCoy shook his head. Considering the first time he met Jim the man had been covered in bruises, this really shouldn't have come as a surprise. McCoy muttered something indistinguishable under his breath and Jim's voice turned more somber as he said, "Seriously. I can't go to the hospital."

"Why the hell not?" McCoy demanded with a fair amount of irritation. He had an unpleasant feeling that his day was about to become complicated. Jim didn't respond for a few seconds so McCoy sighed and said, "Look James-"

"Jim."

"Jim. You just got your ass kicked by four guys. You're bleeding, your nose is broken and you probably have a mild concussion. You need medical attention." McCoy tried to explain patiently, though he had never been a man known for his patience.

"No I don't." Jim refuted firmly. "Bones-"

"My name's McCoy."

"Bones." Jim insisted resolutely. McCoy rolled his eyes but went with it, deciding that it was useless to argue against this kid. "I can't go to the hospital. Just bring me back to my dorm. Please?"

McCoy snorted when Jim tried to send him a charming look. He mostly just looked really pathetic and Jim seemed to realize this because he frowned and tried pouting instead. One electric blue eye flickered between his brown ones intently, silently pleading with him to help him out.

After a long moment of deliberation, McCoy was finally convinced to help Jim out when they heard the medics and security personnel running down the hall. Jim's body tensed drastically and he immediately tried to pull away from McCoy. He looked like he was ready to take off running with or without McCoy's help so with a roll of his eyes McCoy reached down to grab his bag, pulled Jim's arm more securely around his shoulders and hauled the two of them out of there.

A/N: This is my first Star Trek: 2009 fanfic so I hope that I manage to portray the characters accurately and write an interesting story. I'll hopefully be updating with some frequency so... yeah, enjoy!

A/N2: This is a friendship!fic only, no slash. I'm not against slash (not by a long shot) but it wont be happening in this story.