From Fangs

by Bebedora

Seemingly mundane away missions never quite go as planned...especially when Jim doesn't watch where he steps. Now both he and McCoy must fight the elements, along with an increasingly dangerous medical situation if Kirk wants to survive.

For Warrior717, who requested a fic where Jim gets bit by a snake and McCoy has to suck the venom out. You asked for it…it's all your fault, lol. I'm confident this piece is everything you'd hoped it would be.

And also for Shoreleave, who was okay with another snakebite story being added to the fandom. XOXO

From Fangs

"Son of a bitch!"

James Kirk and Leonard McCoy watched helplessly as the Med Kit went plummeting down the gorge. The doctor held onto the Captain's arm tightly, straining as he pulled the man back to safety. He surely didn't want to explain to Starfleet brass why Jim fell to his death on his watch.

"That was my only Kit!" He yanked Kirk back, causing Jim to fall and land on his rear. "My communicator was in there, too."

"Sorry Bones, I tried to catch it."

McCoy watched as Kirk stood and brushed the dirt from his pants. "You almost joined it, you idiot!"

Jim sidled up next to his CMO and peered over the ledge. "That's really far down."

"Thank you for your input, Captain Obvious. Now get away from the edge before you fall." McCoy pulled him back. "I should have watched where I was going. Slippin' like I did was just stupid. And now look where it got me…"

"At least you didn't go down with it." Jim smiled and leaned forward once again. The wind gusted suddenly, causing him to waver for a moment, almost sending him over the edge.

McCoy gasped and pulled him back one more time. He clenched his fists. "For the love of God, get away from the ledge! Let's just get back to the rendezvous point before you kill yourself."

He nudged Jim to get moving. The Captain took one last look over his shoulder and down the embankment before moving on. Both men trudged on into the dense jungle. They walked for several minutes in silence before McCoy spoke again.

"Tell me again why I let you drag me down here?"

"Because you can't resist my charm. Plus, you just said last week that you needed to get off the ship for a while." Kirk smirked mischievously.

"I didn't mean coming down to some unknown jungle! A Starbase would have been just fine."

Kirk clapped McCoy on the back. "Live a little, Bones! You've collected some great samples for the bio-lab. They'll be busy for months! I mean, look at all these flowers." Jim inhaled deeply and promptly sneezed.

"Oh, I see 'em, alright…and the havoc they're bound to wreak on your allergies. Get away from those." He jerked Kirk away from a purple blossom. "You had better hope you don't have an allergic reaction. All my hypos were in my Med Kit, which is now at the bottom of that canyon."

"You worry too much, Bones." Kirk started walking again. "I won't touch the flowers, alright?"

McCoy huffed. "Don't touch anything. Don't smell anything, taste anything or even look at anything funny. In fact, why don't you just hold your breath?"

"My kindergarten teacher told me not to do that anymore. I promised her."

"Well, she wasn't a doctor trying to save you from potential anaphylaxis." He cursed under his breath as his pants got stuck on a barbed vine. He struggled to free the fabric from the spines. "Dammit, I hate you so much right now."

Kirk chuckled and helped McCoy free himself from the plant's mighty grip. He backed up slightly to get a better angle as he pulled on his friend, and stepped into some overgrown underbrush.

He screamed seconds later.

"I think something bit me!"

McCoy freed his trousers and looked up just in time to see a medium-sized spotted snake slither out of the foliage. Without thinking, he slammed his boot down on top of the creature, snapping its spine. Jim hunched over and grabbed his left leg, just below the knee. He pulled his pant leg out of his boot and over his knee to expose two bleeding puncture wounds.

"Oh, shit!" Kirk bent over to inspect the holes. "They're deep, Bones."

The doctor brushed Jim's hands aside. "Let me look, dammit! Sit down so I can see better, you're blocking the light."

Jim did as he was told, wincing as his leg moved. "It's starting to burn. Feels like acid in my veins." He began to fidget.

McCoy mentally scolded himself for cavorting off into the jungle with just one Med Kit. The others were with the landing party, at least an hour's walk from their position. He knew he should always travel with two—whether Jim was with him or not—but he had forgotten.

And now it might cost Kirk his life.

"Hold still! Movin' around's just going to make the poison go through you that much faster!" McCoy flew into a frenzy. Within seconds, he had cut Jim's pant leg up the middle—thank goodness he always carried a pocket knife on away missions, per his Grandmother's explicit instructions—and removed one of Jim's shirt sleeves. He hastily tied the fabric around Kirk's leg, above the knee, in an attempt to slow the progression of the venom.

Now he had to counteract the toxin.

With no Med Kit at his disposal, he feverishly went through his options in his head, mindful that with every second that passed, Jim's potential survival rate went down.

I don't have any anti-venom.

No way to stop it from spreading.

Unless…

Nah…that'd never work…

McCoy looked back up at Jim, who was beginning to sweat. His eyes were closed, his breathing a bit labored.

"Jim, listen to me. I don't know how nasty this venom is. I have an idea, but I have no way to know if it'll work or not. Everything I learned in med school says it won't, but I gotta try."

"I trust you, Bones." Kirk groaned and screwed his eyes shut. "Do whatever you…have to."

He straightened Jim's leg out all the way. "I'm going to try and suck the venom out."

Kirk smirked instantly. "Well then, this would be way funnier if I got bit in the groin."

"I'd rather let you die than put my mouth anywhere near 'Little Jimmy'."

"Don't be such a prude." Kirk hissed in pain as McCoy removed his boot. "Watch it!"

McCoy took a deep breath. "Granny once told me if it was an emergency to try…I guess this is one of those times." He leaned over and positioned his mouth over the oozing wounds. He took a deep breath and applied suction.

"Motherf...that really hurts!"

McCoy released his lips for just a moment. "Quit bitching so I can fix this!" He tried again, a mixture of blood and bitter venom filling his mouth. He quickly spit it out onto the jungle floor. "Christ, this stuff tastes terrible! Like Gorn piss!"

Jim shrieked in pain and tried to jerk his leg away as McCoy attempted to remove more of the toxin. The doctor didn't stop, despite Kirk's protest. He held onto the Captain's leg tightly and spat another mouthful into the dirt. "This shit's making my tongue numb! You just had to go and get bit, didn't you?"

"It wouldn't be…any fun if…ouch!" Kirk grimaced and tried to grab his leg, only to have the doctor swat his hand away. "…any fun if I…didn't keep you on…your toes!"

McCoy went in once more, only to remove a mouthful of blood. He wiped his mouth on his sleeve and shook his head in defeat. "It's too late, Jim. I'm just getting' blood now. Let's hope you didn't get a full dose."

"My head feels kind of fuzzy."

"Sit still. Try not to move around a whole lot and calm your breathing." The doctor straightened up and leaned in close to Jim's face. His pupils were dilated, his skin flushing. He pressed two fingers to Kirk's neck, the Captain's erratic pulse thumping wildly underneath. "We've got to get in touch with Spock somehow…and my communicator went down with my Med Kit."

Kirk hesitated, embarrassed, before quietly replying. "Mine's busted."

"What? How the hell did you manage that?" McCoy inspected the wounds on Jim's leg. They were beginning to swell and turn a dark purple. Blood oozed from each hole.

"It must have been crushed when I went after your Kit." Kirk sighed a shaky breath. "Guess we're fucked."

"Just great." He wiggled his tongue around in his mouth, trying to get the burning to dissipate. He hoped the toxin wouldn't get to him. Looking down at the ground, he eyed the small collection of blood and venom that he had removed from Kirk's leg. It was slowly soaking into the dirt. He scowled and let his shoulders sag.

That isn't enough.

I knew it wasn't going to work.

I got a few drops…maybe…before it was all blood.

Shit.

We've gotta move.

McCoy grabbed the snake's carcass and shoved it into his knapsack, filled with the samples they had collected. He threw the straps over his shoulders and grabbed Jim under the arms. In one fluid movement, he had lifted Kirk to his feet. He couldn't believe how heavy he felt. Kirk's head lolled slightly and his legs buckled under his own weight. The young Captain was losing control of his body.

The poison was starting to migrate.

"We've got to get out of here. I need to get you back to the ship." He started walking, dragging Jim next to him.

"Stop!" Jim feebly grabbed McCoy's bicep. His fingers barely pressed into the muscle. "Jesus, my leg feels like it's on fire!"

"It's the venom. C'mon, work with me!"

He slowed his pace slightly so Jim could try and keep up. McCoy didn't feel like carrying him, and didn't know if he would actually be able to. He just had to hope that Kirk could walk back to the rendezvous. He wasn't sure just how far it was, but they had to try and make it. He needed better treatment options, and those were back at the base camp. Without proper testing to see just how much toxin was flowing through his body, there was no way to tell how much danger the Captain was truly in.

"Jim, you've gotta help me out here! I can't drag you all the way back."

Kirk wheezed as his feet stumbled across the forest floor. The boot of his un-injured leg caught on a rock and threatened to tug him down. McCoy grunted as he wrapped his arm around Jim's waist and re-positioned him, trying to find a more comfortable way to assist his walking.

"Bones, I don't know if I can keep this up." Kirk's body weight seemed to increase to the doctor. "And I'm seein' spots…"

Goddammit.

He's never gonna make it.

The rendezvous is at least a mile away.

McCoy found a suitable spot to stop, just outside a medium-sized cave. He figured they could shelter in there for the night if they had to. But he hoped Spock and the other team members would find them before then. He had only a small canteen and a few protein bars in his backpack, and no real way to make a fire if he needed to.

He eased Jim down and sat him against a large boulder. Kirk immediately started to shiver. The sun was going down, and the air temperature along with it. He plopped down next to Jim and leaned his head back against the rock with a heavy sigh.

"This is just great. We're stranded with no Med Kit, a busted communicator and no one knows where the hell we are." He cracked his eyes open and looked down at Jim's leg. He leaned forward and scrutinized the puncture wounds. They were getting uglier by the minute. "…and God only knows what that poison's doin' to you right now."

"It could be worse," Jim replied flatly. "'Could be raining." Thunder boomed off in the distance. Kirk laughed quietly. "Wow, I didn't know I had that much power."

McCoy rolled his eyes and groaned. "Why don't you use your new-found 'power' to conjure us up a communicator? Or better yet, a shuttlecraft?"

Kirk didn't answer, just closed his eyes and exhaled deeply.

"This is awful." McCoy didn't know why he was even complaining anymore, but he felt as if he had to do something.

"You're not the one with a throbbing snakebite." Kirk massaged his leg above the knee. McCoy immediately pushed his hands away. "It really hurts, Bones."

"I'm sure it does, but you gotta quit touching it. The more movement you make, the faster the venom runs through you." McCoy tightened the tourniquet around Jim's knee. "I got bit by a little Indigo snake as a kid. Thing wasn't venomous, but it hurt like a bitch. I can't even imagine what the addition of that shit it injected into you does to your system."

Kirk shrugged his shoulders. "Envision boiling acid streaming up your leg."

"I'll pass, thank you." The doctor rooted around in his pack, finding some pieces of dry cloth he had been using to wrap flora samples with barbs. He could use them as a bandage. He folded them carefully and pressed them onto the wounds.

"Warn a guy, will ya?" Kirk clenched his teeth as the doctor applied pressure. Two spots of blood quickly soaked up to the top layer of the makeshift bandages.

These aren't going to last long.

Better than nothin', I guess.

He removed the tourniquet from Jim's leg and re-positioned it, using it as a tie to hold the gauze in place.

"Doesn't the strap need to stay around my knee?" Kirk looked worried. "Won't the poison spread if you move it?"

"It doesn't matter now, kid. It's already in you. I need to hold this dressing in place anyway." He tied a loose knot in the fabric. "How you feelin'?"

"Funny." Kirk thought for a moment. "My chest feels kind of heavy."

McCoy raised an eyebrow. "Heavy like how?"

"It's getting harder to breathe." He exhaled, a cough spluttering from his mouth.

Leonard eased Jim forward so he could put an ear to his back. "Breathe deep." He immediately heard it. "Shit, you're starting to rattle." He leaned Jim back with an exasperated sigh.

"What's that mean?"

He scowled. "Fluid buildup. Probably a side-effect of the venom. Take deep, even breaths. Try not to get too worked up."

Kirk swallowed hard and tried to do as he was told. "Okay."

"Where's your communicator?"

Jim eyed him suspiciously. "Why? It's broken."

"I know that! I'm going to try and fix it."

Kirk tried to dig into his pocket. He grunted in annoyance as he struggled to fish it out. McCoy groaned and rolled his eyes. "Jesus, now I have to go rootin' around in there, too? I'm not going to find anything awful, am I?"

"Just 'Little Jimmy.'"

McCoy's cheeks began to flush with growing anger. "I'll bust it off, Jim, I swear to God. Be serious." He reached in and, thankfully, removed the communicator with ease.

Kirk watched intently as Leonard tried to activate the device. It still had power, but wasn't producing a signal. The screen had a large crack running across it, the housing split down the middle. He toyed with the buttons for a long moment before frowning and prying off the backplate. With the wires and microchips exposed, McCoy carefully manipulated the smashed parts inside.

"I didn't know you were so handy with stuff like that." Jim was impressed.

"Who says I am?" He popped a stray chip back into place with a satisfied smirk. "But I have to do something to save our asses."

The communicator chirped to life. McCoy flipped it over in his hand and tried to raise the away team. "Spock? Lieutenant Reid? Anyone hear me?"

It took a moment, but a static-laden reply emanated from the speaker.

"…-ppened? …are you, Doct-" Spock's voice sounded distant.

McCoy cautiously attempted to boost the signal. "The Captain's been bitten by a snake. I can't risk moving him any further; you'll have to come find us."

"…can't track…signal. Stay…"

The lights on the device dimmed and Spock's voice ceased. Seconds later, the communicator was dead.

"Dammit!" Leonard tried to get the signal back, furiously mashing the fractured touch-screen.

"It'll be enough, Bones." Kirk's voice was getting weaker by the minute. "They'll find us now that they've heard from you."

"You don't know that." He shoved the useless piece into his backpack. He looked back to Jim, finding his friend pale and sweaty.

He's goin' downhill fast.

I can't let him die here.

What the hell am I going to do?

"Bones…my throat's dry."

Jim's voice, coupled with raindrops beginning to pelt his face, got his attention, and McCoy knew they needed to move again. He was worried about dehydration—for both of them—and the rain would bring the real threat of hypothermia.

Both maladies of which Jim did not need to add to his current list of troubles.

Grabbing Kirk under the arms, he hoisted him gently, mindful of his leg. "C'mon, Jim. We've gotta get into that cave. We can't risk getting wet or we'll freeze."

Jim moaned softly with each step, his leg dragging behind him. They moved twenty or so feet into the cave before McCoy helped Kirk down, leaning him up against the wall. The injured man let out a weak sigh, followed by a rattling cough.

Soft light still filtered in from the entrance of the cave, giving the doctor the ability to look around without a lantern. And that was good for their situation, since his backpack didn't contain any source of artificial light. The cavern ceiling was a good two feet over McCoy's head, allowing him ample room to move around freely. The floor was dry, a mixture of sandy soil and small pebbles. There was no sign of wildlife occupation, and, in a stroke of blind luck, some desiccated foliage had piled up near the back, possibly blown in my previous winds.

Well I'll be damned; I guess this doesn't suck so bad after all.

Just gotta find a way to get that shit burning.

"Jim?" McCoy scooted close to his friend. Kirk's skin was looking gray, even in the low light. He reached for his canteen and offered it to Jim. He continued while Kirk drank slowly. "I think we'll be okay here for the night, if they don't find us first. There's some dry sticks in here with us, and because my Grandmother always taught me to carry my pocketknife on an away mission—and said knife just happens to have flint tucked away on it—we're gonna have a nice warm fire here in a hot minute."

Kirk lowered the canteen from his lips, wiping his mouth on his remaining sleeve. "Good, cause I'm really cold." A shudder coursed through him as he leaned his head back against the wall.

McCoy scowled as he took the canteen back and took a small sip. He was worried for Jim. The man's breathing was quite shallow, and he hoped the shivering was just due to the dropping temperature, and not oncoming fever. After he finished, he capped it and gently sloshed the contents, trying to discern just how much precious water was left. Satisfied that there was more than enough to last them the night with careful rationing, he patted Kirk on the thigh before moving to the back of the cave to collect his kindling.

Loaded down with an armful moments later, he piled it up on the dirt floor and began to strike the flint from his knife with the blade. He couldn't believe just how fast it caught. Smoke began to waft up and out of the mouth of the cavern as flames consumed the fuel. He quickly added some larger sticks to the fire, causing it to bulk up significantly. It was close enough to them to provide warmth at a safe distance.

Thank God.

Small miracles, Leo.

"I don't feel so good…" Jim's voice was weak. "Now my stomach hurts."

Jesus, is there anything on you that doesn't hurt?

McCoy brushed the dirt from his hands and moved to Kirk's side. "Hurts like how?" He held the back of his hand to Jim's forehead, disheartened when heat prickled his skin. The Captain was developing a fever.

"Dunno..." Kirk sighed deeply and wrapped his arms around himself. He hung his head between his shoulders. "Nauseous."

The doctor dug in his knapsack, producing a protein bar. He used his teeth to tear open the wrapper. "Try to eat something, it might help. I brought your favorite…chocolate." He tried to muster a small, comforting smile. Kirk feebly reached for the snack, his hands trembling slightly.

"Thanks, Bones." He took a tiny bite, grimacing as he swallowed. He sat forward and groaned. "Damn, I feel like crap."

McCoy put his arm around Kirk's shoulders. "I wish I could help you more, kid." He covertly snuck a peek at Jim's leg, which was visibly swollen well past his knee, dark bruises blossoming out from underneath the bandage, which was soaked with blood.

All of a sudden, Kirk's body went rigid, and they both had only seconds to move before he vomited up the meager contents of his stomach. McCoy was horrified to see blood.

It was obvious that Jim noticed too, for he immediately began to panic. "Oh, shit, Bones! That's not good, is it?" He coughed, more blood splattering on his lips. "What's happening?"

Fuck!

Might be internal bleeding.

Hemotoxin, probably.

This just went from bad to worse.

I'd give my left arm for a Tricorder right now.

McCoy tried to hide his alarm. He calmly took Jim's wrist and squeezed it between his thumb and forefinger, feeling for a pulse. Of course, his heart was beating erratically. Kirk tried to breathe normally, but coughs wracked his whole body. A wet snuffle came from the young Captain, and when he raised his head to look at Leonard, the doctor's stomach lurched into his chest.

Blood cascaded from Jim's nose.

"I feel light-headed, Bones." The blood trickled into Jim's mouth, causing him to spit it into the dirt.

"Tip your head back." McCoy cradled the base of Jim's skull in his hand and gently moved his head, pointing his chin to the cavern's roof. Kirk immediately began to choke on blood. It was pouring out of him faster than he could compensate for.

"Wh'rs the blood…coming from?" Jim's words began to slur, and the doctor couldn't tell if it was from the fluid garbling his speech, or something much more sinister. Like bleeding out.

McCoy tipped Jim's head to the side slightly, allowing for some of the blood in his mouth to run down the side of his cheek, while still keeping his gushing nose elevated. He could no longer tell if Jim's nose was the only source of the scarlet liquid. "I think that venom had a hemotoxin in it. It's attacking your blood vessels. That's…" He pursed his lips and looked Kirk right in the eyes. He knew he couldn't sugar-coat his response. "…it's not good, Jim."

Kirk snorted, a faint smile visible in the firelight. "I kinda fig'rd that. 'S hard to breathe…"

Shit.

Attacking blood vessels…

…like the ones in his lungs.

"Look, stop talking, alright? Conserve your oxygen." McCoy tried to conceal his growing panic as he listened to the sound of Jim breathing. He didn't need to press his ear to Kirk's back to hear the rattling anymore, it was loud and clear with every shaky breath the young man took.

Oh, Jesus.

His lungs are filling up.

McCoy glanced at Jim's leg, noting that blood was dripping from the soaked bandage. He had never wanted to be back on the ship so bad in his life. Sick Bay was full of all sorts of wonderful gadgets that would have Jim up and driving him crazy within hours. Blood replicators. A lab ready to produce an anti-venom at the drop of a hat. All sorts of magnificent medications that would ease Kirk's discomfort and stop the bleeding.

He looked around at his current surroundings. He wasn't in Sick Bay, though. Instead, he was holed up in a cave with next to no supplies, a waning fire and a dying friend. He didn't think it could get much worse.

"M'skin feels like 's on fire." Jim began to claw at his bare arm. Within seconds, his brows furrowed and his face went slack. His voice was monotone. "Bones? I think 'm gonna…"

The doctor watched in horror as Kirk's eyes rolled back into his head and his body began to quake. Blood-tinged froth spurted from his mouth as he seized, his hands clenched into tight fists, his legs flattened against the floor of the cave.

Jesus Christ!

Don't tell me that venom had a neurotoxin, too!

McCoy watched in horror, his world moving in slow motion. Jim shook right in front of him, and there was nothing he could do, save for grab him by the shoulders and pray for it to end. He would have given his life in that moment for a hypospray full of anticonvulsants.

The seizure lasted only moments before stopping on its own, leaving an unresponsive—and unbreathing—Jim in its wake. The Captain slumped to the side, his head rolling, allowing the blood in his mouth to run out and splatter on the floor.

He yanked Kirk down and laid him flat on the ground. Jim never made a sound. His eyes were wide open, staring out into oblivion. Once sparkling blue and full of life, they were now dull and speckled with tiny red dots, thanks to the blood vessels contained within popping one-by-one. McCoy leaned over and placed his ear over Jim's gaping mouth, desperately trying to hear any signs of breathing. He pressed his ear to Kirk's still chest, carefully listening for a heartbeat.

Scowling when he heard nothing, he sat back up and linked his fingers together, one hand on top of the other. He hated that he didn't have any technology with him. He was going to have to do this the hard way.

"Listen to me, damn you! You're not leaving me in this goddamn cave alone, you got it?" He placed his hands over Kirk's sternum and began to compress the young man's chest. He could still feel Jim's body heat through the fabric of his shirt. He counted to twenty out loud, even though there was no need to, as there was obviously no one there to help.

When he reached the end of his countdown, he leaned forward and exhaled deeply twice, filling Kirk's lungs with his own breath. Not pausing to check for a pulse, he spat Kirk's blood from his mouth and resumed his thrusts, pressing so hard he broke a couple of Jim's ribs.

Kirk never stirred under his intense treatment. The doctor wished Jim would start to wail, bitching about how much his newly-broken ribs hurt, or his leg throbbing from the bite. But he never so much as blinked an un-seeing eye, or took even a small breath.

"You're such an asshole, you know that? If you think I'm carrying your body back to the ship, you've got another thing coming!" McCoy pushed on Kirk's chest without hesitating, knowing that if he was actually breaking bones, he was doing it right. He stared into Jim's wide-open eyes as he worked, hoping that this wouldn't be the last time he saw them. Reaching twenty once again, he breathed for Jim, scowling as he felt resistance from the inside.

He knew Jim's lungs were filling with fluid. He just hoped it wasn't all blood.

Over and over again, he replicated his actions: compress, count, breathe. Watch Jim for any signs of life. Curse the minute they came down to the planet. Repeat.

On what was the fifth go-around, and Leonard was beginning to think all hope was lost—that he'd never hear Jim's voice again—Kirk spluttered to life.

First, a faint thump under his fingers at Jim's neck, inconsistent and weak. Next came a gasping breath, tiny droplets of blood spraying up from Kirk's lips as he coughed. His eyes remained open, still fixed on the ceiling. McCoy waited for the next breath to come.

It didn't.

He shook the young Captain by the shoulders, willing him to take more air into his lungs. "Dammit, breathe! I didn't just work my ass off so you could toy with me like this!" Jim stared at the roof above them, never making a sound or attempting to take another breath. McCoy slapped him on the face, then rubbed his knuckles firmly into Kirk's breastbone. "Breathe!"

Jim gasped again, McCoy knowing full well that a knuckle to the sternum hurt like hell. Kirk's eyes fluttered shut as he began to draw air into his lungs. His body shuddered as he began to revive slowly, limbs jerking as blood began flowing back and nerves activated again.

"If you ever do that to me again, kid…" McCoy couldn't even finish his sentence as he momentarily rested his weary head on Kirk's chest. The truth was, he didn't know what he would do without Jim. . It was something he pushed down into the deepest depths of his psyche, especially when Kirk was running head-first into who-knows-what during what seemed like every away mission. They had been together for what seemed like forever. Being best friends with James T. Kirk wasn't easy, but McCoy had made a career of it. And he certainly wasn't ready for that job to end. Not today.

Kirk's eyes rolled around in their sockets, blood continuing to drip from his nose. "Bo…" He reached out with a shaky hand, rooting around for the doctor. McCoy grabbed it and squeezed.

"Right here. You gave me quite a scare."

Jim took a couple of shaky breaths, each one seeming to come to him with more and more ease. After a moment, he opened his eyes again and settled his gaze on the terrified face of his CMO. "What…happened?" He coughed, then swallowed the blood the action had brought up with a grimace.

"You had a seizure. Whatever that serpent bastard shot into you is not only messin' with your blood, but also your nervous system." He laid a comforting hand on Jim's sweaty forehead. "Just relax and concentrate on breathing."

Kirk's eyes closed lethargically as a flash of lightning lit up the cave. Seconds later, a booming rumble of thunder followed. McCoy continued to stare at his friend, trying to figure out just what the hell to do next. Spock would no doubt be trying to find them, right? Even with the severe weather threat, he had been very clear that Jim was injured and couldn't be moved. But with the way the wind was howling outside, and the wicked lightning striking too close for comfort, he knew a swift rescue just might be impossible.

But there was one thing he knew for certain.

Jim was too quiet.

A few long moments passed without either man uttering a word, the only sound being the pelting rain outside the cave and the raspy breathing coming from the mouth of the injured Captain. He would occasionally gag on pooling blood within his mouth, and McCoy finally rolled him onto his side, allowing the crimson fluid to flow freely out. He did notice that the blood flow seemed to be slowing ever-so-slightly, and he hoped against hope that it meant the vascular damage was minimal and waning. With no prior knowledge about the snake that bit Jim, the doctor could only speculate and observe when it came to the effects of the toxin. The seizure had been quick and only somewhat severe—he didn't know if it had caused Jim to stop breathing or not—and it seemed that just as soon as the blood loss had reared its ugly head, it was abating.

Goddammit, I wish I just had thirty seconds with a scanner.

At least then I would know what I was up against.

This venom and its damn side-effects don't make any sense.

One minute Jim's bleeding faster than any human should ever bleed, and the next minute he's barely oozing.

…maybe it's got a coagulant in it too…

Shit.

What the hell kind of bastard-ass snake was that?

"Bones?" Jim's voice was barely above a whisper. "I'm hot. No…cold. And m'tired."

Leo sighed heavily. There was no point in trying to keep Kirk awake anymore. Without proper testing, who the hell knew the procedures for this alien venom anyway? He decided to let Jim rest.

"Go ahead and go to sleep, kid. I'll keep an eye on ya." He leaned back on his arms and stretched his back out.

I hope I just didn't make the mother of all mistakes.

You had better wake up, you little shit.

Jim mumbled something—McCoy had absolutely no idea what it was—before slipping off into a restless sleep. The doctor moved away quickly and placed another bunch of sticks on the fire before resuming his vigil at his friend's side.

He stared out of the cave, wishing that the damn storm would stop long enough for Spock to find them.

XxX XxX XxX XxX XxX XxX

Jim stirred slightly, a grimace crossing his blood-stained lips.

McCoy hadn't moved more than a few inches since he had allowed Jim to fall asleep. Looking at his chronometer, he noted that almost two hours had passed. The storm was nowhere close to abating, it seemed, and Leo had spent his time thinking of ways he could strangle Jim when they got back to the ship.

When he wasn't hovering over Kirk, making sure he was still breathing and not choking on his own blood.

Jim had drifted in and out of consciousness during that time, rambling incoherently and moaning. He had improved marginally since the seizure and CPR "incident." He was no longer coughing up blood, which lead McCoy to believe that the hemotoxin had had a short window of effectiveness. The doctor thanked his lucky stars that the bleeding had slowed to almost nothing again, as Jim had lost quite a bit in a short amount of time. Kirk's leg, however, was swollen and angry, with red streaks beginning to emanate from the wounds. The doctor was very worried about infection spreading through Jim's body. Fever was running rampant within him, and even without anything more than the back of his hand as a thermometer, McCoy knew Kirk's temperature was rising to into the danger zone.

He reached out and took Jim's pulse at his wrist, the pressure from his fingers causing Kirk to jump and call out in the dim light of the dwindling fire.

"Help me!"

McCoy reassured him with a squeeze on the shoulder. "You're safe, Jim."

Kirk exhaled a choppy breath, eyes furiously blinking as he tried to take in his surroundings. "Wh-where are we?"

"You don't remember?" The doctor's brows furrowed. He figured the fever was messing with Jim's memory. At least he hoped it was the fever. "We're still in this goddamn cave waiting for that green-blooded bastard to find us and drag you back to the ship."

"Oh." Kirk closed his eyes again, licking his dry lips. "I'm thirsty, Bones."

McCoy grabbed for his canteen and moved behind Jim. He gently lifted the younger man's shoulders onto his lap, placing him in a semi-seated position. The doctor held the vessel to Jim's mouth and helped him to drink. "Slow, kid. Not too much. I don't need you puking all over."

Kirk took a few small sips before letting his head loll off to the side. McCoy took a drink, scowling as he drained the last of their water. "Well, shit. All out."

"It's okay, Bones. The away team will find us soon." Kirk's voice was stronger. It was evident the rest had helped. He shifted on McCoy's lap, wincing as his leg bent. "So, what do you want to do now?"

"Get the hell outta here."

Kirk chuckled, then yelped in pain as his broken ribs protested. He gingerly reached over and cradled his left flank with his right hand. "Why does my chest hurt?"

McCoy averted his eyes. "I uh…broke a couple of your ribs."

"You hit me or something? I don't remember that…"

Leonard shook his head. "Of course not! Although I'm considering it as punishment for you dragging us down here." He sighed deeply and looked down the floor of the cave. "You went into cardiac arrest after the seizure, Jim. I had to do CPR to bring you back."

Kirk was stunned. He swallowed hard before quietly replying. "Thank you. For saving me."

McCoy grunted. "No need to thank me. Besides, if you think I was lettin' you die on me, you're sorely mistaken. The Admiralty would have my ass if anything happened to you."

Jim smiled softly. "Sure, Bones." He shifted his weight on the doctor's lap. "So, besides the obvious choice of 'gettin' the hell outta here', what do you really want to do now? I have a feeling we've got a lot of time to waste."

"Alright then, let's talk," McCoy grumbled. "I can't believe I let you talk me into coming down here. And without a good escape route, to boot."

Kirk rolled his eyes in the dim light. "So you've decided to pick on me. Don't I get a choice in our activity while we're here?"

"No. I've got you held captive, so I'm gonna give you a piece of my mind." He shifted on the ground, moving Kirk's heavy body to extend his leg, which had begun to fall asleep. "'Don't worry, Bones', he says. 'Just because we can't beam down doesn't mean we can't go!' You and your damn ideas. 'We'll take a shuttle', he says. 'Everything will be great', he says. Now look at what we've gotten ourselves into. Hold up in a goddamn cave with alien snake venom doing God-knows-what to your internal organs."

Kirk laughed, a wet cough spluttering from his lips seconds later. His breathing was still labored. McCoy didn't want the young Captain to catch on that he was, even now, still scared out of his mind for his well-being.

At least nothin' came up with that cough.

Still sounds like you're full of fluid, though.

"You'd better stop laughing, or I'll find a way to put that venom back in. I still have the dead snake, you know."

"That's a morbid souvenir, don't you think?" Jim wrinkled his nose in disgust.

"Shut up. It's for the anti-venom. Although I don't know what good that'll do now."

Jim's voice suddenly got serious. "But you got some of the poison out, didn't you?"

"Not nearly enough. There's still plenty coursin' through your veins. That's why you've got the fever and are still oozin' blood from every hole on you. Plus, you're loopy."

"I'm not loopy."

McCoy scoffed. "Then how come you told me you saw an Andorian in the corner earlier?"

"I did? …Okay, maybe I'm a little goofed up." He hesitated for a moment. "But you think an anti-venom will help a little, right?"

"Depends of if we get back to the ship in time. You're in bad shape, Jim."

Kirk sighed and nodded slowly. "I guess I really screwed up."

"Normally I'd agree, but it was my fault you got bit. I'm the one who snagged my pants on that vine. You were just trying to help."

"It's not your fault…it's not anybody's fault. Snakes bite." He groaned softly as he moved his leg. "You don't think I'll…you know, die?"

"Dunno. Without proper tests, I have no way of knowing if somethin' else awful is coming or if you're on the tail end of effects. My medical expertise says 'no', though. I think the worst is over."

I hope.

You had better not crash.

I don't know if I can bring you back…

…again.

"You think Spock will find us?"

McCoy nodded and poked the fire with a long stick, causing embers to puff up into the air, losing their glow as they floated down to the ground. "Of course. He's got the hearing of a dog with those pointy ears of his. He'll probably be able to hear your whining a mile away." The doctor patted Jim on the leg. "Just hang on; I'm sure they're coming. I don't think we're that far from the extract point. If it wouldn't be for this damn storm, we could have made it on our own."

Are you sure you're sure?

With our shit luck, he went back to the ship without us.

Jim moved slightly in Leonard's lap. "You know what I could go for right now? A beer. Cold and frosty. None of that replicated non-alcoholic swill."

"I tell you what. After we get back and I clear you medically, I'll get you a beer."

"I'm gonna hold you to that, you know. Lying to the Captain is grounds for a court martial." Kirk smirked in the dwindling light. "My leg hurts, Bones." He let his eyes flutter shut.

"I'm sure it does, kid. If my Med Kit was here I could give you something." McCoy stared out of the mouth of the cave at the pouring rain. At least the thunder and lightning had stopped. He peeked at his chronometer. "Sun'll be up soon. We'll be back on the ship before you know it."

"Promise?"

"If I'm lying may I get struck by lightning right here and now."

Kirk snorted. "Be careful what you wish for." He pointed to the mouth of the cave with a shaky finger. One-hundred-percent on cue, a flash of light lit up the night sky.

"Well, shit."

Kirk managed a small laugh. His voice was getting weaker again. "Tell me a story?"

"For God's sakes, Jim. What are you, four? Just be quiet, alright? You need to conserve your energy."

They sat quietly, both sets of eyes drooping as exhaustion consumed them.

XxX XxX XxX XxX XxX XxX

The morning air was misty from the previous night's rain, tendrils of fog rolling in through the entrance of the cavern. McCoy awoke with a chill, the frosty bite of morning air making him shiver. For a split second, he forgot where he was and wondered why the hell it was so cold on the ship. But the heavy weight of Kirk's body snapped him back to reality, and he realized he was still in that damn cave.

He looked down at Jim in his lap, sleeping soundly. Even though his cheeks were still flushed with fever, he no longer had the deep pain-induced furrows in his brow. Leo was relieved to see dried blood crusted under his nose instead of fresh. And although his leg still looked like it had been through a thresher, Leonard was confident all would be remedied when they returned to the ship.

If they made it within the next hour or two.

He debated whether or not he should wake Kirk. He really should check his neurological functions in the daylight. It had been over twelve hours since the bite. Jim was still breathing, so McCoy took it as a win. The fact that he hadn't had any more crises since the cardiac arrest made the doctor feel a little sense of relief. Whatever the toxin had done to him was beginning to dissipate. He just hoped he would be able to treat the lingering effects of the venom once they were back on the Enterprise. Jim would no doubt need physical therapy to get his leg working at one-hundred percent again, along with a potent cocktail of antibiotics.

Jim stirred, cracking his eyes open. McCoy had never been so relieved to see the blue in all his life. And the fact that his pupils were nice and reactive, constricting into tiny points as the sunlight entered them, made him want to do a cartwheel right then and there. He had hope that Jim's body had metabolized a good portion of the poison during the night.

"Bones?"

McCoy sat Kirk more upright in his lap. He noticed right away that Jim wasn't moving his injured leg. "Good mornin', sunshine. How are you feeling?"

Kirk grimaced. "I can't feel my leg."

Shit.

The doctor tried to hide his anxiety. He carefully slid Kirk off of his lap and dragged him gently over to the wall, so he could sit up unassisted. Jim groaned in pain as McCoy manipulated his leg. As he removed the makeshift bandage, Kirk hissed through clenched teeth, clenching his fists so hard his nails dug into his palms. "Holy sh…I felt that!"

At least he feels something.

This leg looks horrible.

So much for being confident about treating this easily.

The wounds were leaking greenish pus, and the skin surrounding the area was mottled with dark bruising. The red streaks that McCoy had noticed during the night had spread, snaking underneath the remnants of Jim's pant leg. Leo figured they had migrated well up Kirk's thigh by now. The infection was spreading.

He pressed the bloody gauze onto the wounds, trying to force some of the collected infection out. Jim threw his head back against the cave wall and bit his lip, trying not to scream in anguish. McCoy knew it must have been excruciating, but with no other treatments available, this was his only option to relieve some of the pressure in the wounds.

"Sorry, kid. I know it hurts, but I gotta get some of this shit out or you're liable to lose your leg." He pressed again, feeling the substance ooze out underneath his fingertips.

This time, Jim screamed.

"Just hand on a minute more, alright? I'm almost done."

I hope.

He looked up at Kirk, red-faced and sweating. He couldn't tell if it was from the fever or the pain. Blood trickled down his chin from his bottom lip, which he had split with his teeth while trying not to scream. McCoy released the pressure of the gauze, inspecting the wounds. Jim panted above him, small moans escaping his mouth with each breath as he slowly calmed down.

"Fuck, Bones!"

The doctor tossed the soaked bandage aside, momentarily trying to decide what to do next. He needed another clean piece of fabric to wrap around Jim's leg. He eyed Kirk's other sleeve, immediately noticing that it was covered in dirt and dried blood. Looking down at his own tunic, his sleeves were remarkably clean. Without hesitation, he sliced off his own sleeve with his pocket knife, turned it inside-out and swiftly tied it around Kirk's wound.

"I know that was horrible, but if I didn't at least try to get some of that infection out, there's no tellin' if you'd make it back to the ship or not." He sliced Jim's pant leg up the middle, towards his waistband. He was right about the red streaks; they extended well up into Kirk's boxers. He didn't even bother to lift the fabric of the shorts. He knew the infection was spreading.

"It's really that bad?" Kirk tried to steady his breathing.

"Yes, it is. You've got a fever and this pus is rank. We've gotta get back. Sooner the better." He always told Jim the honest truth about his medical conditions. There was no reason to try and pull a fast one on him, he'd always see through it anyway. And McCoy respected Jim enough—as a Captain as well as a friend—to never lie to him.

Kirk just sighed and leaned his head back against the wall, eyes closed. "It's morning, they'll be here any minute. I can feel it." He exhaled a shaky breath.

"I sure hope so. Besides you needin' more than I can do for you in this shithole, I'm hungry as hell and could use a stiff drink."

"You promised me a beer, remember?" Kirk smirked mischievously.

McCoy wiped his dirty hands off on the remnants of the old tourniquet. "A deal's a deal, Jim. You heal enough to get cleared, and you get a brew." Voices echoed somewhere off in the distance. "…and I think I hear the cavalry…"

He rose to his feet and scrambled to the cavern entrance. He shielded his eyes from the harsh sunlight. Leonard couldn't see anyone, but definitely heard rustling in the forest, along with human voices.

"…Kirk? Doctor McCoy?"

McCoy would never have admitted it to anyone, but he was actually happy to hear Spock's voice. Seconds later, the group emerged from the foliage. They had come prepared, with several Med Kits tossed onto the stretcher they were carrying. He waved his hands in the air to get their attention.

"It's about time, you ingrates! What, were you scared of the thunder last night and couldn't come after us?"

Spock raised an eyebrow. "Our fear—or lack thereof—of the storm had nothing to do with our arrival this morning. It would have been illogical to attempt a rescue in unfamiliar territory with severe weather threatening…"

"Oh, for the love of God, Spock! Can't you take a joke?"

The Vulcan looked at him, perplexed and silent.

"Nevermind. Jim's in the cave. Get that stretcher over here on the double so we can haul ass back to the shuttle. He needs Sick Bay."

Spock attempted to peer into the cave. "Will he survive?"

McCoy nodded. "Yeah. He's in a lot of pain right now with a nasty infection, but I think the worst is over." He grabbed the supplies off of the stretcher. "Now hurry up before he makes a liar out of me and does something stupid like go into septic shock."

Within the hour, Jim was back on the ship, pain meds and antibiotics doing their respective jobs as he rested comfortably. Hours later, McCoy had synthesized an anti-venom and had administered it as a precaution. Even though tests confirmed that Jim's body had successfully rid itself of most of the toxin, he didn't want to take any chances with the life of the Captain.

And the next day, Leonard made good on his promise of a cold beer.