Hello everyone. In the throes of cleaning today, my sister had her computer on and was watching Grey's Anatomy, the scene where they pry poor Izzy off of Denny's body. The scene somehow captured me, and this angsty death fic clawed its way out. This is Star Trek 2009 rewrite of the scene, and I claim no ownership of either Star Trek or Grey's anatomy. Also this oneshot is completely unrelated to any other fic I have written. And I promise, my next fic will be much much happier than this
0o0o0o0o0o
Characters: McCoy, Spock (POV)
Genre: Angst/Tragedy/Hurt/Comfort
Summary: There is roaring in his ears, and he feels the same rush of awful painsufferingguiltloss that he felt when his mother died, but somehow this is worse. He doesn't know why it is worse but it is, and it takes all of his massive control not to crumple right there.
0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0
Spock walks down the corridor, the echo of his own footsteps in the clean halls of the Enterprise reverberating loudly in his own ears. His heart is pounding, his stomach is twisting, and he is fighting, fighting with all his might to suppress the worry and fear that are threatening to suck him in, to sweep him away in an emotional tide.
And he is worried. He is worried because when the call came to the Bridge, from sickbay, it was not Dr. McCoy asking for him, an urgency underlying the deep, charming southern drawl. No, Christine Chapel had communicated with him, requesting urgently that he report to sickbay.
He reaches the doors of sickbay and they his open automatically for him. Nurse Chapel is there, but she is not facing him. She is watching a private room off the main sickbay, the private room where the injured Captain is still recuperating from the latest disastrous away mission.
The Captain had been stabbed in the heart, a grevious injury, and Spock could still smell the rusty smell of human blood as it leaked out all over his hands. The Captain had barely survived transport, but once again, a swearing and irate Dr. McCoy had managed to patch him up after a long and tense surgery. Only an hour ago, Spock had left the alert and smiling James T. Kirk in sickbay to joke and laugh with his best friend.
Spock feels his heart clench again. Something is clearly wrong. He moves forward, touching the blonde nurse on the shoulder. "Nurse Chapel?" He inquires calmly. She jumps at his touch and voice, and whirls to face him. There are tears shining in her blue eyes and he raises an eyebrow in enquiry, but she seems unable to speak. Instead she motions to the private room, and Spock feels that awful tightness in his chest as he moves forward, trying not to be afraid of what he is going to see.
The first thing he sees in the Captain, his chest still swathed in the white bandages, laying still in the bed with his eyes closed. But something is wrong. The color is completely absent from the Captain's face, and his chest is still, and with a jolt Spock sees the lack of signals on the monitor.
The Captain is dead.
There is roaring in his ears, and he feels the same rush of awful painsufferingguiltloss that he felt when his mother died, but somehow this is worse. He doesn't know why it is worse but it is, and it takes all of his massive Vulcan control not to crumple right there. It takes control to keep him on his feet, but something else keeps him standing too.
Dr. McCoy is there, curled up on the bed next to the Captain…Jim's body, his arms around the young man's still shoulders, hazel eyes staring forward into nothing. M'Benga is there too, leaning forward on the other side of the bed.
"Dr. McCoy." M'Benga is speaking softly, but he is standing back, as if afraid of what is going to happen. "You can't be here. He needs to…We need to move him. You know…" M'Benga's voice is pleading, but the Doctor doesn't even seem to hear in, the tortured hazel eyes continue to stare at absolutely nothing.
"I did a good job."
The southern accent is even more pronounced than usual, and Spock can hear the hitch in the Doctor's voice that signals barely suppressed tears. "The surgery went well. I repaired the damage." the Doctor continues, his arms tightening around Jim's neck. "I should have known…I should have thought of clots. He just had heart surgery, goddammit. I should have…I should…"
The Doctor pauses and takes a deep shuddering breath, closing his eyes. Spock moves forward, suppressing the trembling. He knows the Doctor will need him to be in control. He needs to be strong, steady. He needs to be what the Doctor expects him to be. He suppresses the trembles he's feeling, swallows the grief, pushing it away for the moment.
"Doctor. You must let go." Spock is standing next to the Doctor now.
"Go 'way, Spock." McCoy breathes. The Doctor curls closer to Jim's body, and Spock watches him shudder again. The Vulcan feels pain in his chest that seems to radiate all over his body, and he wonders if this is what 'heartbreak' feels like.
"Doctor." Spock continues, controlling the tremble in his voice. "That is not Jim. He ceased to be Jim the moment his heart stopped beating."
McCoy moans, a low, awful sound that can only be made by a human caught in the throes of terrible grief. "He was fine an hour ago. Joking about going back to the bridge…escaping. Now he's dead." The Doctor's voice finally breaks. "Isn't that just the…the worst…godawful thing?"
Spock reaches out, his hand closing firmly on the Doctor's shoulder. "Bones." he murmers softly, and suddenly the man is moving, responding to Spock's touch, or perhaps the intonation of his nickname, and Spock doesn't know how it happens, but he finds himself half supporting the Doctor as he launches himself out of the bed and buries his head in Spock's shoulder, sobbing.
Spock tightens his hold on McCoy as M'Benga moves forward, pulling a sheet over Jim's head and transferring him to a gurney, to take him to the morgue. He gently moves McCoy to the couch at the side of the room, and they sit there together for a long time, McCoy sobbing into Spock's shoulder as Spock holds him and stares at the empty bed, trying to absorb the awful terrible truth that his Captain, his Jim, is gone.