It was cozy, and so very warm, and there was a strange but blissful sensation all around his head. Someone was caressing his head over and over, running something soothing- a comb?- over his scalp, dipping in and out of his hair, fingertips lightly grazing his skull. He felt the fingers carding through, parting, searching, exploring, gently tugging at individual locks, smoothing his hair back. Then trickling cold penetrated down to his scalp, and the process started all over again. His head buzzed and tingles ran up and down his spine. He couldn't help but shudder, uttering a faint, deep groan.

"Bones, you awake?" asked Jim. Leonard kept his eyes closed. Perhaps the shuttle crash was all a dream. He'd had those nightmares constantly during the flight portion of his Starfleet training. If only he was back in the Academy and Jim was hanging out in his dorm, as was his habit. It was often distracting, but Leonard didn't mind. Somehow, Jim was immune to his gruff exterior, the same personality flaw that ended up driving everyone else away. He seemed to relish in pushing the irritable doctor beyond his limits because Leonard always pushed back and offered him a challenge. And Jim Kirk never backed down from a challenge. Sooner or later, Leonard always gave in because he just couldn't say no to those devastatingly deep blue eyes, that playful smile, and Jim's sweet cajoling tempered by his clever intellect. He swore the guy could talk anyone into anything. So far Leonard's list included (but was not limited to): Letting Jim call him "Bones," closing the bar down at nearly every dive in San Francisco, singing karaoke, speeding around on the back of Jim's motorcycle without a helmet, agreeing to be part of Jim's crew when Jim took the Kobayashi Maru not just once, but three times, actually going into outer space on a damn starship, becoming Jim's official CMO, going on away missions, and stepping foot in that mother fucking shuttle. Yes, Jim was a hell of a diplomat, which was a huge part of why he made such a great captain. With all that history behind them, they had developed an unspoken understanding of each other, a trust that couldn't be broken. They knew everything about each other, all their phobias, dreams, vices, quirks, even what kind of underwear they prefered (Leonard, briefs, Jim, nothing.) But there was one thing Jim didn't know, that Leonard had kept close to his chest.

Cold fingers touched Leonard's face and he jerked away from them. "Sorry, I forgot, my hands must be freezing," said Jim.

Leonard opened his eyes and waited for everything to come into focus. He was looking up at the buckled ceiling of the damaged shuttlecraft with all its cracks and exposed wires.

"Goddamit," he growled.

"And I thought you'd be happy to see me," Jim pouted. He leaned into Leonard's field of vision above him, his face upside down. Leonard was glad to see that Jim looked much better, the swelling on his forehead gone and the gash replaced by fresh, pink skin. His eyes shone with the spark of daredevil genius he usually displayed under much better circumstances. It was very reassuring. But Leonard was still pissed that they were marooned on this godforsaken planet, stuck inside the unassuming deathtrap that had almost killed them.

"I was hoping it was all just a bad dream," he explained. Jim shook his head, smiling apologetically.

"Nope. Sorry, Bones. If I would've known polar vortexes formed spontaneously on this planet, I never would've suggested coming down here." Leonard felt Jim's hands cradling the sides of his head, and then the warmth Leonard was laying on shifted a little. He realized that his head was in Jim's lap and his cheeks grew hot. "All the initial survey data suggested it was stable. If I'd just waited a few more hours..."

"It's not your fault any of this happened, Jim," Leonard said quietly. Jim clenched his jaw and pulled back out of Leonard's field of vision, so Leonard craned his head back.

"I saw Baquero. What happened to Horovitz?" Jim asked, his expression grim.

"He's dead, Jim."

"How?"

"Died on impact of massive trauma. He wasn't strapped in. I… don't suggest you go looking for him." The image of the broken body in his mind still made Leonard a little queasy. He grimaced and swallowed.

"Wait, so you found him outside?" Jim asked in disbelief. "Did you actually go out there?!"

"Of course, I went looking for y'all after I woke up," Leonard replied, irritated. "The whole front of the shuttle got sheared off somehow. That's where I found you. You had a severe concussion and you were completely unresponsive, so I had to drag your heavy ass all the way back in here, before you got hypothermia."

"Holy shit, Bones." Jim's fingers curled in Leonard's hair. "That's incredible. I can't believe- well, I mean, that's so... valiant."

Leonard snorted. "Just part of the job. Don't make it sound so dramatic."

"Seriously, Bones, thanks. Are you okay?"

"I'm a little banged up, but…" Leonard looked down. His survival suit was remarkably free of any blood stains and with the jacket zipped up, Jim couldn't see the wound. Out of sight, out of mind. Leonard made a split decision. He couldn't worry Jim, not now. "...I'll be fine," he stated. Jim peered down at him skeptically.

"You really freaked me out. When I woke up, you were out cold… and your face was covered in blood. I mean, there was just so much blood. I've been trying to clean you up a little. God, where did this all come from?!" He gestured to a gross pile of burgundy clumps interspersed with strands of dark hair, laying atop several discarded sanitary wipes that were stained red. "Sorry that I woke you up, but… I'm glad you're awake. I was half- afraid you'd bled out or something."

Leonard cringed and closed his eyes. He was probably bleeding out, but slowly, where it wasn't obvious, and only time would tell how long he would last. "I'm alright. ...Head wounds tend to bleed a lot. So how do you feel, Jim?" he asked, trying to deflect attention away from himself.

"I've got nothing more than a slight headache, thanks to you. But you forgot to think about yourself, you ass. You had no blankets, no sleeping bag. And you didn't set up the heater." Leonard realized that the soft orange light bathing them both must be coming from a frictionless heater somewhere out of sight. Its warmth radiated in the enclosed space. Jim had cocooned him in a sleeping bag, snug as a bug in a rug.

"Yeah, well, cut me some slack. I was kinda out of it."

"You were so cold, Bones. I really thought you were dead, at first." Jim sounded amused, but there was a barely perceptible tremor in his voice. The combing sensation was back, gently tugging at the clotted mess in his hair, and Leonard gradually let all his muscles go slack. Jim's hands tilted Leonard's head to the left and Leonard opened his eyes halfway. He saw a concave piece of plastic debris filled with snow sitting next them, saw Jim dip his fingers in to scoop some up, and felt him rub the snow into his hair and quickly comb it through. Jim proceeded to methodically brush his entire scalp. It was just simple grooming, but such an affectionate gesture, and felt so, so good.

After a while, Leonard asked, "Izzat comb official Starfleet issue survival gear?" The words came out slurred and drowsy. He was so incredibly relaxed, he felt high as a kite. Jim chuckled.

"Scotty gave it to me as a joke. He said-" Jim launched into his best impression of their chief engineer's Scottish brogue- "'Yer missin' the most important tool in yer survival suit. Heaven forbid anythin' happens and Captain Perfecthair gets one hair out of place.' And then he stuck this in my pocket with such a serious expression that I just lost it." Bones couldn't help but laugh, but inhaled sharply when he felt jarring pain in his belly. He tried to mask it with more forced laughter.

"That's you, alright. You're so obsessed with perfect hair that you're messing with my hair. But I'll let you know right now, it's a lost cause." Even on his best hair days, Leonard's thick, dark locks were often unruly and impossible to control.

"Whatever Bones, you have great hair. A lot of it. And I can't let you walk around like this- it's just disgusting and it's starting to smell." The comb caught on a particularly stubborn clump. Jim rubbed some more snow into it and wiggled the comb, deftly teasing it out, and flicked it off the comb's teeth into the pile of ick. After a few more long, unobstructed pulls of the comb, Jim put it aside. Leonard heard a package crinkling, then felt Jim press a cold wet wipe to his right ear and scrub firmly all around every curve and fold of cartilage, even digging inside.

"Hey, that's enough!" huffed Leonard, trying to turn his head and push Jim's hand away. Jim's other hand clamped down on Leonard's forehead, holding it in place.

"I told you, you're a mess. I'm surprised you can even hear me out of that ear," Jim said, not letting up. He discarded the wipe and got another, scouring Leonard's cheek and his temple. "Close your eyes."

Leonard grudgingly did as he was told and felt the hand holding him down release its grip and nudge his face so that he was facing upward again. The wipe made a gentle circuit around his right eye, passed over his eyelid, bore down on his eyebrow, then rubbed along his entire forehead.

"Done. Sit up and I can get the back."

"I'm good," said Leonard quickly.

Jim patted Leonard's shoulders. "Come on, now." He pushed the doctor up halfway and Leonard braced himself on his hands, straining to pull himself up with only the muscles in his arms, feeling the burn in his gut come alive. His teeth clamped down on his bottom lip but a pained grunt still forced its way out of his throat.

"What's wrong?" Jim asked, frozen in place, his hands hovering above Leonard's shoulders like he was afraid to touch him.

"Just...sore," Leonard assured him. Jim relaxed, and picked up the comb again, swiping it repeatedly from the crown of Leonard's head to his neck with a dollop of slush.

"I am too. My neck, mostly. But we're the lucky ones."

You're the lucky one, Leonard thought. He'd never met anyone in his life with as much divine fortune as Jim, who always seemed to be in the right place at the right time. Jim had managed to cheat death so many times, McCoy was tempted to distill his essence and bottle it for his patients in critical. And here he was, smiling and whole again, while Leonard's injury was like a ticking time bomb. Things never seemed to work out for Leonard, like his late father's treatment, his former marriage, and now this. He pulled his legs out of the sleeping bag, then turned to face Jim, all his delayed reactions to the crash simmering under the surface and threatening to boil over.

"Scotty gave you a good luck charm. Does anyone ever give me nice gifts or tell me funny jokes when they see me walk by? No. They run the other way," he griped.

"Bones."

Leonard flashed a sarcastic grin. "I'm sorry, I forgot, they do give me something. A hard time."

"Booooones."

"Admit it. You do, too. I have to get Spock and a security team to herd you into Sickbay for your physicals." Jim blinked innocently.

"That's different. I've never run away from you. Sheesh, what's your problem, Bones-"

Leonard's lip lifted in a snarl. "We just fell out of the sky in a goddamn wreck that killed two people instantly, and if the Enterprise can't find us, we're as good as dead, too!" he snapped. "You know as well as I do that this planet has no organic life, and it's so chock full of ions we can't even use our own comms to talk to each other if we wanted to! I don't exactly feel lucky. I'll consider us lucky once we're safely back on the Enterprise!" He didn't mean unload all his pent up anxiety on Jim, but the throbbing pain in his belly had pierced through his comfortable haze, and the reality of the situation was crashing down around him just like the shuttle had. Jim's eyes were wide and hurt and a little affronted, but Leonard couldn't stop. "I told you, I told everyone, you can't trust these flying tin cans, but you just had to make me come along with you-"

"- I thought you'd appreciate a change of scenery for once-"

"- I don't even know what I'm doing down here for Christ's sake-"

"- Spock couldn't go, so you were the obvious choice-"

"- 'It's perfectly safe,' you said, 'Nothing's gonna happen,' you said-"

"-Usually nothing ever does!"

"- I HATE flying, Jim. I HATE IT. I never want to see another shuttlecraft again for the rest of my fucking LIFE if I can help it! Why don't you ever LISTEN to me?!"

The ambient noise of the storm outside had lessened and the wind was no longer blowing as harshly. Leonard's heaving breaths sounded loud in the silence that followed their exchange.

"You're right, Bones. I shouldn't've made you come along. But get ahold of yourself. You're a Starfleet officer." Jim's voice was quiet and even, with a commanding edge. "And you'll have to ride a shuttle back up on our way out of here."

Deflating, Leonard rubbed his sweaty forehead with one hand. It seemed ridiculous to be yelling at the man he'd been secretly carrying a torch for, especially if he didn't have much time left. After a few moments, he squeezed his eyes shut, shook his head and said, "Of course. I forgot about that." Jim reached out and clasped Leonard's shoulders. His eyes, those damn gorgeous eyes that perfectly matched the jewel-toned blue of his survival suit, looked deep into Leonard's rings of humble hazel, confident and full of promises.

"We're going to make it," said Jim.

"I sure as hell hope so," Bones replied, his voice threatening to crack.

Jim heated up some MRE's by pulling the rehydration tabs and plugging them into the portable heater. Leonard ate slowly, chewing thoroughly. He didn't feel like eating and knew it might actually be a bad idea, considering the type of internal injuries he'd sustained, but his body needed the fuel. He got through about a quarter of his tray before holding it out to Jim, who was sitting next to him. "Here," he said. "I'm not very hungry, and I don't want it to go to waste."

Confused, Jim looked down at the tray, then back up at Leonard with concern. "What's going on with you, Bones?"

"I still have some vertigo from the crash. Don't wanna puke everywhere if I can help it."

Jim accepted the excuse with a nod, and proceeded to wolf down the extra portion. "We need to go over the plan for tomorrow. I hate to tell you this, but we can't stay here inside the shuttle."

"Why not?" Leonard asked, staring at Jim in disbelief.

"The storm is dying down and once the sun comes up, this whole thing might become unstable. We crashed in the middle of a snowstorm, but when we came down here it was sunny and pretty balmy outside. Even though we're at a higher altitude, the snow will start to melt. Plus, there's a dead body in here."

"Well, where will we go?" Leonard had been hoping he'd get more of a chance to rest, and maybe heal. He hadn't been counting on lugging around a bunch of equipment on some trek down the side of the mountain.

"I don't know yet," said Kirk. "We'll have to hike around and survey the area to find a safe place to camp out. The good thing is that we have plenty of water all around us. I'm going to set my comm to wake us up at sunrise."

"Are we going to have to go all the way back down to where we were before?"

Jim shook his head. "The higher the transmitter, the better the odds that the Enterprise will pick it up, so no, I don't want to do that unless it's absolutely necessary."

Dropping a purifying tablet into a canteen of freshly melted snow, Leonard swished the water around and waited for it to dissolve. Maybe he should be truthful with Jim about his injury. It would eventually become obvious, anyways. He cleared his throat.

"Jim… I shouldn't've raised my voice earlier."

"No harm, no foul. You made me realize something. ...I haven't exactly been fair to you." Jim put down his empty tray and fidgeted.

"Jim, that's not it at all. Look, there's something I have to tell you." Leonard took a deep breath.

"Before you go on," Jim interjected, "I'm sorry for always being so pushy and trying to force you out of your comfort zone. To be perfectly honest, it's all for very selfish reasons,"

Raising an eyebrow, Leonard pinned Jim with a withering glare. "You don't say."

"I just like having you around," continued Jim, looking a little flustered. "I guess I want to share all these experiences with you because you just get me on a level no one else ever has. I feel a lot more secure when you're with us on an away mission." His eyes flicked up, then looked back down at the floor of the shuttle self-consciously. All Leonard could do was gape at the confession. Jim wasn't usually one to discuss his feelings, and this was quickly becoming very personal... maybe even a declaration of something more?

"Jim…"

"You're the most important person in my life, Bones. I don't think I could've made it through the Academy without you. I wouldn't have been able to even get on board the Enterprise without your help. You have no idea how much I… how much I appreciate your company." He held up a hand, interrupting Leonard's attempt to respond. "Just let me finish," he said. "I am so grateful you weren't killed in the crash. I never would've forgiven myself if you ended up like the others. And there's a reason you're here. If you hadn't been on this mission, I might have just stayed in that pilot's seat and froze to death, or died from head trauma, or- or both. You saved me, Bones, you always look out for me, and I don't take that- or you- for granted."

Jim was trembling, looking over at Leonard in earnest, now. Stunned, Leonard reached out to him. "Jim. Jim, I'm not thrilled to be here, but I'm glad I'm with you," he said, hooking his arm around his neck and pulling him into a fierce hug. Jim buried his face in Leonard's shoulder and put his arms around him, squeezing him tightly enough to push the breath from his lungs. Or maybe Leonard just couldn't breathe because his heart was in his throat. It was everything he always wanted to hear. Jim pushed back away from him, flushed and eyes shiny, just enough to be able to look directly into Leonard's face. They held each other, arms locked, hot breath filling the short space between them. Jim parted his lips and leaned in. Leonard's heart pounded, and he reflexively closed his eyes, waiting for those enticing lips to meet his own.

Instead, he felt the top of Jim's head bump into his mouth as Jim clutched at him and buried his face in his chest. "I really thought you were dead," Jim said in a shaky voice. "I've never been so scared before, Bones- that's why I couldn't stand to look at you with all that blood all over your face- God, I almost killed you-"

He was quickly becoming hysterical and Leonard abandoned all his fantasies, feeling a pang of guilt. Jim needed a friend right now, an anchor, not someone who was going to take advantage of him in their stressful predicament. Leonard was reminded that Jim's headstrong, charming exterior was often a very convincing act that shielded a complex and vulnerable man underneath. Jim hadn't exactly had an easy upbringing, and as long as Leonard had known him, he didn't seem to have any close relationships with anyone, not even his family members. He probably considered Leonard more of a brother than anything else.

"Shhhh. You didn't almost kill me, you gave us a fighting chance to live. Anyone else probably would've piloted the shuttle straight into the ground. Everything's okay now." Leonard patted and rubbed Jim's back, soothing him. "You're tired, Jim. I think we were both in shock and the adrenaline's startin' to wear off. It's been a long day and we need to rest." Jim nodded his head silently, still pressed into Leonard's chest, his head tucked underneath Leonard's chin. The doctor gently pushed him away.

"Here, lay down. Your head still sore?"

Jim nodded silently again, sinking down onto his sleeping bag.

"I'm gonna give you a painkiller and you're gonna go to sleep. Okay?"

Jim nodded a third time. "Yeah. Ok." There were puffy bags under his eyes, and he had a five- o'clock shadow. Leonard hadn't witnessed him looking this haggard in a long time, not since the aftermath of the battle with Nero. He turned to his medkit and loaded up a hypo, then pressed it into the side of Jim's neck.

"Sleep tight, Jim." He reached out and gave Jim's crown of blonde hair a fond tousle. Jim grabbed his arm and looked up at him intently.

"What were you going to tell me? Before, you said you needed to tell me something. I'm listening."

Leonard went rigid. He couldn't break it to Jim now, not after everything he just said.

"I tried calling the ship several times and they didn't answer," he said after a beat. Jim seemed perplexed.

"Is that all?"

"Jim… we can talk about it tomorrow. Just go to sleep."

Jim looked at him warily, but closed his eyes and turned over. Once Leonard was certain Jim was fast asleep, he went back to his sleeping bag and adjusted the dial on the hypo to the highest setting he dared for his body weight. Trying to be as quiet as possible, he unzipped his jacket and unbuckled his belt, pushing down the waistband of his pants so he could fully inspect his injury. It was difficult to see in the dim, orange light from the heater. He carefully peeled back the bandage. The bruising around the dark, jagged line where the debris had penetrated was ugly, but not as inflamed as he thought it would be. His fingers probed around the site and he breathed hard through his nose, stifling gasps of pain. It was tender, very tender, but he didn't feel anything hard like leftover shrapnel, a clot or an obstruction. He wanted to double check with the tricorder, but that would certainly wake Jim up. Leonard hypo'd himself and zipped his jacket closed. It didn't take long for the drug to hit him, making his muscles rubbery and his head feel disconnected from his body. He just barely managed to cover himself with the outer flap of the sleeping bag when he felt himself

completely lose touch with reality and ascend

into a celestial

wonderland

of