With You, a star trek: 2009 fanfic

So my trusty laptop of seven years died a few days before Christmas. But! I got a shiny brand new one on Monday! So, immediately I wanted to write, and the following prompt on the Star Trek XI Kink Meme grabbed my attention. This could be read as a prequel of sorts to "Then and Now", but I didn't do that on purpose. It just kinda worked out that way.

Title: With You
Fandom: AOS
Rating: R
Warnings: Story deals with the care of a person directly after a rape. Nothing is too graphic, but it is potentially triggery. Please do not read it if you think it will bother you.
Summary: Fills this prompt: Lotta rape prompts for McCoy, so can we get a fic where, immediately after McCoy is raped, Kirk takes care of him? Like, holding his hand while his injuries are being treated, taking him back to his room to help him get cleaned and into bed, talking him calmly and gently through the trauma? I need some fluffy, sweet, aftercare, guys! Please?
Disclaimer: Not mine

Jim was moving so fast he almost hit the automatic doors when they didn't open quickly enough for him. His heart was jackhammering in his chest, and all he could hear was his blood rushing in his ears. He knew he was this close to completely losing it. Rushing through the lobby of the medic center, the sound of his shoes squeaking loudly in the small space, Jim focused on the figure by the reception counter.

"Spock!" He called, uncaring of the attention he was garnering. The Vulcan turned slightly upon hearing Jim, his countenance uncommonly disturbed. Jim swallowed the thick feeling of churning dread. "Where is he?"

"Captain-"

"Damnit Spock, where is he?"

"Jim." That brought him up short. Spock never, never called him by his first name without being prompted to. Taking a couple of shallow breaths, he held Spock's gaze, not liking what he saw there.

"Tell me," he demanded, voice a hoarse whisper. Spock hesitated, taking in the Captain's obvious agitation, and glanced away. "Spock-"

"Doctor McCoy was…attacked, Jim…" And that was it. Jim was done. Grasping the Vulcan by the upper arms, he shook him slightly, or tried to, as if to dislodge the information he wanted.

"Attacked…attacked how? What does that mean Spock? Where is he?" Jim's voice was raising with every word, and he didn't give a shit.

"He was sexually assaulted, Jim. None of his injuries are life threatening."

Jim looked as if he'd been struck, the words were that physically painful. He let go of Spock's arm's, his hands falling to his sides, and he took a step back.

Bones, god, no.

Following the nurse to one of the private exam rooms, Jim quickened his step when he heard raised voices, and as they got closer he could distinguish Bones' voice.

"I said get away from me! Get me my clothes and let me the hell out of here!" The voice was rough and even through the door Jim could hear the note of panic.

A calm, male voice could just barely be heard. "Sir, you need to be examined, and we need to do a kit-"

"I said no!"

Running the last couple of steps, he gently but firmly shouldered the nurse he'd been following out of the way. He didn't bother to knock, just opened the door and took in the scene quickly. A male medic and a female nurse were both standing on one side of an exam table, Bones standing slightly hunched on the other. One hand gripped the patient gown he'd been given, keeping it closed over him, the other hand on the wall, supporting himself slightly. He looked as if he'd taken some hits to the head and face, eye and lip swollen, cheek cut and bleeding. Those were the injuries Jim could see from where he stood, but taking in the way he was holding himself, there was no doubt there were other injuries.

"Jim!" Bones said, voice cracking. "Thank god. Get me out of here. Now." Jim came fully into the room, sparing the nurse and medic a glance as he moved to Bones.

"Get out," he said.

"But, sir…" Jim whirled on them, pulling himself to his full height and pinning them with his eyes.

"Get. Out." The medic and Jim stared at each other for a few moments, before he nodded curtly.

"Fine. But he's injured, and we need to do an evidence kit. If we don't," he said, raising his voice and looking past Jim to Bones. "Whoever did this to you will do it to someone else." Focusing back on Jim, he said quietly. "I'll be here. Just hit the call button." Jim didn't acknowledge him at all, but waited until he and the nurse had let themselves out before turning back to Bones.

Approaching Bones cautiously, unsure of how he would be received and desperate to offer comfort, Jim was taken by surprise and relieved when Bones reached to him. Carefully, Jim drew Bones into his arms and held him gently, mindful of the obvious pain Bones was feeling. With his face pressed against Jim's neck, he could feel dampness against his skin, trickling down to the collar of his shirt. Jim cupped Bones' head and felt the strands sticky with…blood…he identified, pulling his hand away to glance at his fingers. Fuckers hit Bones over the head to incapacitate him and then…

Neither spoke for a moment, Jim too overcome by such a rush of hot, tangled emotion – anger, hate, love, relief, sadness – as he felt Bones shaking against him.

"I'm sorry…I'm so sorry," Bones rasped out after a moment.

"No, Bones…no. You didn't do anything. This is not your fault," Jim said firmly, pulling away slightly to look at him. He kept his eyes down and just shook his head, swallowing hard around a sob that was building in his throat. His hands were fisted in Jim's shirt, and his shaking was becoming more pronounced.

"Here…shh. I got you. Let's sit…you need to sit," Jim murmured. He maneuvered them around and eased back onto the exam table, sitting with Bones beside him. He was still gripping Jim's shirt, and he didn't try to extricate himself, just slipped his arm around Bones' back and held him firmly, but carefully. Jim rocked them slightly, murmuring quietly. Bones rested his forehead on his shoulder, wincing even as he bent that short distance. "Your ribs?" Jim asked quietly.

"Yeah. Kicked me. Head too." Bones admitted, his words slurring slightly. "'M tired, Jim."

"Concussion?"

"Prob'ly."

Jim licked his lips nervously. The medic was right. Bones needed medical care. Jim didn't care one way or the other if he got it down here, or if he had the Enterprise beam them up right now, but it had to happen. At least Bones seemed…not necessarily calmer…but a little less frantic than he had been earlier.

"Bones, you need a doctor," Jim said. Bones grunted, acknowledging the truth of the statement even as a hard shudder passed through his body. Jim rubbed his arm and reached behind himself, fingers snagging the fabric of a hospital blanket. He draped it over Bones' shoulders, wrapping the blanket around him. Bones shifted slightly to help him, seeming to relax slightly when he was more covered, and Jim didn't think it was just because he was cold. "Will you let them help you?" Jim asked, trying to catch Bones' eyes. He kept his face turned away though…hasn't looked at Jim properly once. "Or we can go back to the Enterp-"

"No!" Bones exclaimed, looking up quickly and meeting Jim's eyes for the first time. "No…I don't want…I can't. Not the people I work with." Jim's gaze softened as Bones looked away again, blinking rapidly but unable to hide the tears.

"They're not just people you work with, Bones. They're your family. They all love you," Jim said.

"I know. I know that, Jim," Bones said. "But I c-can't. I just can't." Jim nodded. He understood.

"Here, then, okay?" He waited for Bones to acquiesce, unwilling to force Bones into anything right now, trusting he'd come to the correct conclusion on his own. No matter what, Bones was a doctor, and he was always a doctor first.

"Will you stay with me?" he asked, voice low and small.

"Of course. I'll always stay with you," Jim replied.

"Okay," Bones said, after another moment.

"Okay," Jim repeated. He got up, keeping a hold on Bones' hand, to reach for the comm unit the medic had indicated earlier. While they waited, Jim helped him to lie down, tucking the blanket around him as his shivering increased. "I'm right here, Bones. I'm staying right here," Jim said, gripping Bones' hand as tightly as he was being gripped. Bones closed his eyes and nodded slightly.

Jim looked up when the medic and nurse entered the room again. Their eyes met over Bones' prone body, and the medic saw the warning there. He nodded slightly, understanding the message Jim was sending. Bones kept his eyes closed, shifting slightly and making a small distressed sound in the back of his throat as he felt the movement in the room around him. Turning his attention back to Bones, Jim gently stroked his face, and Bones turned his head to press against Jim's hand, his breath coming fast and shallow against Jim's palm.

"Shh…you're okay. I'm staying right here," Jim murmured. The nurse moved some materials from the counter over to a bedside cart as the medic donned protective gloves.

"Mr. McCoy," he said. "Nurse Clyde is going to document your injuries…your ribs, your face, your hands."

Hands? Jim thought. He looked down and for the first time noticed the damage to Bones' hands. His knuckles were abraded, his palms torn up, as if he'd skidded on his hands on a rough surface, it looked like there was a bite mark on the flesh below his thumb. Bruises encircled his wrists. Jim's breath caught in his throat and he blinked rapidly, trying to keep himself composed. Bones needed strength, his strength, right now. But to see evidence of the fact that he had fought – hard, and alone – shook Jim to his core. With an effort, Jim refocused his attention on the medic.

"Then we'll treat your more serious injuries first…your ribs, your head, and the damage to your face. I won't do anything without telling you first, and I know it's hard, but I need you to be responsive to me. Tell me if something hurts or if there are any other injuries that need to be treated." He waited, but Bones remained quiet, keeping his eyes closed. He almost looked to be asleep, except that he was shaking and breathing too quickly to be anything but caught in the grip of near panic. The medic met Jim's eyes again and Jim nodded slightly.

He stayed by Leonard's head, leaning over him, holding him, talking to him so that he could focus on Jim's voice, moving away only just enough when the nurse needed to get a clear view of his damaged face, and when she gently parted his hair to expose the cut on his scalp.

Bones bore it all silently, his grip on Jim never lessening.

Despite the animosity (misplaced, he knew, but he couldn't help it) Jim felt toward the medic and nurse, they were professional and compassionate. The medic kept to his word, making sure to say out loud everything he was doing, everything he was picking up, every time he needed to touch, beforehand. Jim appreciated that, because he knew the professional Bones was would appreciate that as well, even though the patient was unable to right now.

Jim watched as the nurse moved to the end of the table and pulled out two braces, his stomach falling as he realized what they were for.

"Do you have to do it that way?" Jim asked quietly, glancing down at Bones' face, drawn now in a tension that wasn't there previously. He knew what was coming. The medic looked up at him, sympathy shining in his eyes.

"Your ribs are too delicate for you to put pressure on them by turning on your side and pulling your knees to your chest." He sighed, glancing away from Jim for a moment. "'I'll be gentle, and I as quick as I can. I know you just want this over so you can go home, and this is the last part. We…need to collect an evidence kit, so we can get him off the street. So…please…let me help you."

He reached for Bones' foot, to guide him to the brace, and the tenuous control Bones had been keeping snapped. He cried out…wordless, desperate…and kicked his foot out of the medic's grasp.

"No, no…" he tried to push himself into a sitting position, wheezing in pain at the pull on his ribs as he did.

"Bones…hey…it's okay. You're okay," Jim encircled him in his arms, and Bones clung to him tightly, keeping his legs rigidly pressed together. "You're okay," Jim said again. "I'm here."

"I can't Jim, I can't. I can't do this. Please just…take me home. I just want to go home and forget this, please." Bones said, the trembling that had rolled through him intermittently through this whole ordeal developing into an uncontrollable shaking that forced his breath out of him in shallow, desperate pants.

"Okay…okay…just please…Bones, I don't want you to hurt yourself. Lay back…please. He's not going to touch you. I promise." He looked at the medic, silently telling him to back off.

"I'll…just give you a minute, yeah?" he said, catching the nurse's attention and motioning to her as well.

"Yeah…thanks," Jim said distractedly, his whole attention on Bones. "No one's going to do anything you don't want done, Bones. I promise. But…you're hurt. And if they can collect…evidence…when they catch the bastard that did this they'll be able to put him away…and he won't be able to hurt anyone else."

"I know!" Bones exclaimed roughly, swiping a hand over his face. "I know all that! Christ, Jim, I've performed these types of exams. But I…" he paused, his pale face going decidedly green. "I'm gonna be sick," he said thickly. Moving quickly, Jim grabbed a basin and held it under him as Bones emptied his stomach, retching violently and gasping in pain at the pressure the heaving put on his ribs, already sore muscles straining. Gasping for breath, he lay back. Jim left him to bring the basin to the sink, dampened some paper towels and filling a paper cup and brought them to him, gently wiping his face. Bones took the cup and sipped gratefully.

"Sorry," Bones said quietly after a couple of moments, keeping his eyes down even as he leaned into Jim's warmth, taking comfort from his presence.

"No…Bones…you don't have anything to apologize for. Of course you know all about this stuff. I'm sorry…I'm so, so sorry…I wasn't there. I'm sorry th-this happened to you." He stopped and breathed, feeling the emotion he'd pushed aside threatening to take over. "I'm so sorry you have to deal with this." He sat beside the bed, his legs feeling like jelly. He took Bones' hand again, holding his gaze, gently stroking his face. "What do you want to do? Tell me. If you want to leave, we leave. But if you can, I think it would be a good idea to let the medic finish. I'll be here. I'm right here." He watched as a flush worked its way up Bones' face. "Un-unless you don't want me to be," he said quickly. "That's fine, too. Whatever you want is fine."

"No! No…I want you…don't leave me," Bones said, clutching at Jim's arm even as his flushed deepened. He hated this, being so weak, being so scared, but he couldn't help it, and he didn't have the strength to try right now.

"I won't, I won't," Jim reassured him quickly, slipping his arm around Bones' shoulders and holding him tightly.

"It's just…so humiliating. The thought of being touched…" he stopped as a bone-deep shudder ripped through his body, his free hand curling into a white knuckled fist in the fabric of the gown he was wearing, clutching it closed over himself. Jim sighed and covered that hand with his own, gently stroking, urging him to relax his grip and thread their fingers together. He rubbed his thumb over Bones' hand, sitting quietly for a couple of moments, heads leaning against each other. Jim felt Bones calming, felt him slowly leaning more and more into his side, obviously exhausted. He wracked his brains for something to say…something helpful, or understanding, or smart…but came up completely blank. Because what the fuck do you say to your best friend, and recently something more, in a situation like this?

"Okay," Bones said finally, quietly. Jim stirred slightly, turning to press a kiss to his temple.

"Yeah?" Jim said, checking to be certain.

"Yeah," he sighed. "I wouldn't let a patient walk out on me. Even if they don't want it right then, the evidence exam is too important. You talk them into it. But…I-I need you."

"You got me. I'll just…" he stretched to the wall panel, his fingers touching the call button again. Bones seemed to shrink in on himself a bit, his grip on Jim tightening. The medic and the nurse came back into the room, and Bones followed the direction to scoot down on the table till he was flat on his back. His eyes were squeezed closed, and Jim leaned close to him.

"Okay, Mr. McCoy…your left foot here…and you're right." The doctor moved to push the blanket and gown up Bones' legs to rest on his knees. Jim murmured to him as his face screwed up and he bit his lip.

"Wait!" he called out suddenly, his shoulders coming off the bed as he forced himself up, one hand reaching down with one hand, as if to push the medic away. "Please…just…wait." Breathing hard, he lay back down, his hand covering his face.

He breathed deeply for a couple of moments.

"I can do this," Bones whispered.

"Yes, you can," Jim said. "You're the strongest person I know. You can do this."

Finally, Bones nodded, took a deep breath, and held it as he felt the medic push the blanket back, exposing him. Jim had his back to the medic and the nurse, but he could tell what was happening by Bones' reactions, and he couldn't do anything but be there, and talk to him, and wish to god they were anywhere but there.

Bones jerked and bit his lip, his fingers digging painfully into Jim's bicep. His legs shook, rattling the braces his feet rested in, and the trembling made its way up his body. Jim could feel it in the core of him, could see it in the pinched expression on his face. He gently wiped away the tears that slipped down the sides of Bones' face, and he took a shuddering breath. Bones opened his eyes, focused on Jim's blue, swimming behind unshed tears of his own.

The medic and the nurse murmured out of sight. Jim caught words like "damage" and "tear" and then consciously tuned them out, leaning down to press his forehead against Bones' as he clutched him, hands balling into fists in the fabric of his shirt as he fought the urge to twist away, to fight, to get away from the unwanted, violating touch.

"It's okay," Jim said quietly, uselessly. "You're doing so well. He's almost done."

"Jim," Bones ground out, his voice high and tight with distress as he panted around the panic. Jim pressed a kiss to his sweaty forehead, and closed his eyes, their tears mingling.

10.

Finally, finally they were done. Bones sat up slowly, feeling dizzy and light-headed, wiping his eyes with a paper towel Jim handed him, erasing the tear tracks. He ached…his whole body ached, and he was so tired, and felt so sick. All he wanted was to get back to the Enterprise, wash – god, he needed to wash – and climb into bed. Jim kept one hand on his shoulder, and was talking to the medic, but Bones wasn't paying any attention to what they were saying, couldn't make himself understand what they were saying. Didn't care, actually.

The medic and nurse left and Jim turned his attention back to Bones, taking in the way he sat hunched in on himself. He seemed so…defeated. Jim hated that look on him. They'd provided Bones with a set of their version of scrubs…his clothes having been confiscated as evidence.

"Do you want me to leave while you change?" Jim asked quietly. Bones shook his head right away. He didn't look at Jim, and didn't say anything, but the thought of being left alone was enough to send the panic ratcheting up again, making his stomach turn and his skin crawl.

If he hadn't been on his own in the first place, none of this would've happened. If he hadn't been in such a goddamned hurry to get back, he wouldn't've been walking around alone. He wouldn't've been an easy target. So, no. He didn't want to be left alone.

"Okay," Jim said quietly. "Let's get you changed and let's get the hell out of here."

That was an excellent idea.

Jim murmured in his comm before they beamed back, and walking through the corridors of the Enterprise Bones realized he must've ordered the way cleared of personnel between the transporter room and his quarters. But then he realized they weren't headed to his quarters. They were headed to Jim's.

Happy enough with that, Bones let himself be led on weak legs.

11.

Palming the entrance panel, the door slid open for them. Jim led him inside and settled him on the couch. He left Bones long enough to set the water in the shower and pull a towel and some of his own clothes out and left them in the bathroom as well.

Bones stood, drawn by the sound of the water, as he pulled the scrub shirt over his head. Or tried to, anyway. Hissing in discomfort at his sore muscles and aching ribs, Jim turned to him quickly.

"Can I help you?" he asked, keeping his voice low and calm. Bones hesitated, surprised at the inexplicable rush of nerves. But he forced that down quickly and nodded. This was Jim and Jim was safe. Hell, he'd just spent three hours clutching him while he was poked, prodded, holographed, and questioned. He'd already seen and heard everything there was to see and hear. No reason to be modest now. Carefully, Jim maneuvered the shirt over his head and arms without him having to stretch at all, and then his hands went automatically to the drawstring pants, intending to do the same thing so Bones didn't have to bend over.

But Bones wasn't ready for that, and he recoiled, reflexively backing away as he pushed Jim's hands away from him.

"Sorry…I'm sorry," Jim said immediately, moving away and holding his hands up. "That was stupid of me – I wasn't thinking. I'm sorry." Bones took a second to compose himself, recognizing the knee-jerk reaction for what it was. He let out a breath and looked up at Jim, making himself make eye contact.

"No…it's fine Jim. It's just…" Bones gestured helplessly, unable to completely explain the tension singing through him. Jim looked at him with such compassion, such love, that Bones felt himself tearing up again. Angrily, he dashed a hand across his eyes.

"Let's get you cleaned up, okay?" Jim said quietly. Bones nodded, and Jim stepped forward again. "Do you want to leave them on?" Bones hesitated again, but ultimately shook his head, pushing them down as far as he could and letting Jim do the rest. Bones stepped under the water, sighing in relief at the hot, pounding water. Jim hesitated, eyes politely averted. "Do you want me to give you some privacy?"

12.

And suddenly, the composure Bones had been holding on to, that had been shored up by shock and careful denial melted away under the hot spray. "No. No. Oh…god, Jim…" His shaky resolve finally leaving him, Bones slid to the floor of the shower, hoarse sobs forcing their way out of him as he wrapped his arms around himself protectively.

And then Jim was there. Fully-clothed, save his boots, Jim joined him on the floor of the shower, holding him, rocking them gently. He'd been warned that this could happen, that this breakdown was coming, and though he'd been warned, it was still hard to watch. To see Bones reduced to this...it was heartbreaking. And there was also incredible anger towards Bones' attacker. They would find him…Spock was working on it…and he would pay. Not a comfort now, as they sat together on the floor of his shower. After a couple of moments, the storm of emotion passed, and Jim reached for a cloth and the soap. He tenderly washed Bones, washed the grime, the dried blood, the dirt away…did what he could to wash the fear and the helplessness and the memory of the violation away. And Bones let him, the shaking subsiding, the tears subsiding, just letting Jim take care of him.

Finished with the shower, Jim helped Bones stand, wrapped him in a towel and quickly got rid of his sodden clothing, changing into another pair of sweats and t-shirt. Then, he carefully helped Bones dress in his spare clothing.

"Do you want anything?" Jim asked. Bones shook his head.

"I just want to lie down, please, Jim."

"Okay, okay, of course. C'mon." They settled on Jim's bed, Jim pulling the blanket up over them, and wrapped an arm around Bones as he turned so the lay face to face. Jim ordered the lights down as Bones pressed his face against him, and Jim lay awake, listening to his breathing even out as he soothingly ran his fingers through his hair.

"Thanks for staying with me," Bones murmured, sleep heavy in his voice.

"I'll always stay with you," Jim replied, pressing a kiss to his head. And every time Bones jerked awake that night, sweaty, shaking, caught in the nightmare all over again, Jim was there, soothing him down and reminding him that no matter anything else, Jim would always be there.

And Bones knew in his heart, that's what would save him.