Prompt Fic!
"But now the war is won, how come nothing tastes good?"—'Building Downtown' by the Arcade Fire
The San Francisco skyline looked bare. The few buildings left stood stark next to each other, as if they too, mourned. Jim snorted. He must really be insane to be projecting emotions on to buildings.
He shakily ran a hand through his hair. Three weeks. It had been three weeks since he and so many other died. But he had been brought back. Jim Kirk, playboy and rule breaker extraordinaire, of all people had been brought back. By the blood of the very man who caused all of this.
Jim knew he should feel grateful and happy to be alive. He knew that. But how could he when hundreds of people were dead, people who had been under his command. Rubbing a hand over his eyes, Jim leaned onto the railing. Goddamn it! They won, why couldn't he be happy?! The war was over but nothing was bright.
I'm proud of you, Jim. He could almost hear Chris saying that while putting a hand on his shoulder. The man who'd been the best father figure Jim had ever known was dead. Jim tightened the hand over his eyes, trying in vain to hold back the tears.
"You know patients who just came out of medically induced comas aren't supposed to be out of bed. Let alone climb to the roof of the hospital," a southern voice drawled from behind him.
Jim didn't react. Bones, he knew, would talk enough for the both of them.
"You better not have screwed up any of my hard work," Bones continued. The railing creaked a little as his friend let against it. Silence grew between them as they each waited for the other to say something.
"Why me, Bones? Of all the people who dies, why me?" Jim asked, unable to stop himself.
"Because we could."
Jim's eyes jumped to his friend, startled.
"You're a good man, Jim. And our friend and captain. Why wouldn't we save you?"
"You could have saved so many others."
"We wanted to save you," Bones said. "Now come on, patients should be in bed."
Jim let himself be led back to into the building. "What now, Bones?"
"We heal, Jim. Then we live our lives for those who can't. Now enough of the depression, I'm a doctor, goddammit, not a therapist."
Life may not be sweet, but maybe one day it will be.