The next time I wake up, it's dark. To my surprise, Bones is asleep in a cot next to me, curled on his side protectively and snoring gently. It's a sound that's as warm and familiar to me as the Enterprise herself; he's never been loud about it, but years of being around him and sharing rooms, sleeping within feet of each other and so on has taught me that the low, almost purr of Bone's snore is one of the few unchanging constants in my life.
I must really have been close to the edge, if Bones is here.
I remember, and don't try to speak. There's a drink on the table next to me that I take gratefully, sipping the water and considering my situation.
A captain can't be one unless he can speak. Bones said that my condition is temporary, and from his words and behavior, I was wounded badly enough to make it a mute point, anyhow. But I'm healing, now, and I still can't speak, and that scares me more then I'll let anyone see.
Bones, next to me, seems to sense I'm awake. I smile to myself as he stirrs, aware of my presence, like a guard dog reacting to the touch of his ward. Bones persists in thinking of me as a younger brother, even while acknowledging me as his captain, and I will never understand how he balances the two out in his mind. But I'm grateful for it.
"Jim?" He sits up now, instantly alert. "Alright?"
I nod, motioning to the water. Just like before, he seems perfectly able to read my mind without use of Spock's mindmeld or verbal help. He just knows, somehow.
"Just keep sipping it, slow. Your body is still recovering, and your throat's too swollen to handle anything too fast. I'm going to have to feed you intravenously, Jim." He adds, after a pause, and I feel a wave of cold, then heat.
No.
"Jim, don't-"
No. Absolutely not.
"Stop looking at me like that. You need nourishment, and your throat can't handle solid foods- hell, your body can't handle them right now-"
I said no.
"Damn it, Jim, what do you expect me to do?" He throws his hands up. I set my jaw, met his eyes with all the defiance I can, looking at him as if he were a Klingon captain instead of my best friend. I'm still his superior officer. He can pull rank on me medically if he wants, but he'll have to.
I know I'm being stupid and stubborn. But if you've never had the experience of being fed that way, you can't understand why I'm so set against it. It's unpleasant and humiliating, and I don't want anyone- anyone- seeing me that way.
"Jim, you're human. You're just human, and badly hurt-"
I said no, that's what I meant. I'll fight you every step of the way, Bones.
"…….fine. You don't want it, you want to play at being some immortal, super-human figure, fine." He bites out tightly. Then he softens, sighs at me. And I do mean at me. McCoy is one of the few people who can pull that off. "We'll see what we can do." He says. "But if it doesn't work, I don't have much other choice."
He knows it's not just that I don't like the thought of being seen that way. He knows it, and he can't pretend he doesn't. I don't like being helpless. I've been helpless, once, more then once, I don't mean to be that way again in my life if I can control it.
Plus, it brings back unpleasant memories. He doesn't know and won't ever know about the aftermath of Tarsus; none of them will, if I have a say in it. But it's part of how I know how much I hate the process.
Let's be honest, it's mostly why I hate the process.
"Sorry." He adds in a mutter, settling back down on the cot. "You need anything, Jim?"
Why yes, actually, the restroom. Badly. But I don't plan on being escorted. I point instead, and he smirks at me.
"Think you can make it without tripping over your own two feet?"
Thank you, Bones, you're hilarious. I pull myself out of bed, ignoring his comment, and pause, holding the wall and the bed itself for support-
"Joking aside, do you need help?" He asks quietly from behind me, and I shake my head 'no'. I just need a minute to recoup. I breathe a second or two, then start to walk, slowly. It hurts. My ribs creak in protest, and my right leg isn't bending at all. Breathing is shallow and fast, and that hurts, too; my world tilt and archs dizzily with each step. But after a moment, it settles down. Bones is watching, keeping himself from hovering with sheer willpower, but out of the bed and ready to dive for me should I fall.
I don't. I make it to the bathroom and back without more then a stagger; Bones is waiting by the bed to take my arm all the same when I get back all the same. I grunt a protest-apparently I can do that just fine- but he ignores it, taking my weight with some effort.
"Alright, don't whine at me." He mutters, voice slightly strained- I'm just plain bigger then him, even if he's taller.
I don't whine. He eases me down on the edge of the cot, helps me lay back. Stop fussing.
"….You know, Jim, when I can read your expressions like that I know I've been around you too long." Bones mutters from above me. "You nearly died on me, Jim, I'll hover if I want."
I'd been hurt, I know that; but I still can't quite grasp how serious it must have been. I can't remember most of it; the blow to the head, plus it's human nature to block out things that are too much for us to handle until we're ready to face it. Sometimes that's never-sometimes out subconscious locks things away and hides them forever.
I wonder if that will happen now. If I will simply never regain memory of that place, those people, beyond that they exist and they possess a frightening level of cruelty.
….I don't mind the thought. Normally I might worry that that makes me a coward, or weak, but right now, I can't care.
I'm fine now, though. I will him to understand the look, the smile, as I push up on an elbow. Bones says I could charm the fish from a grizzly bear with that smile; but he is more frightening then any bear I've ever heard of, when he wants to be.
He puts a hand in the middle of my chest and shoves me back down at almost no effort. It does unnerve me to be so physically weak; I feel like a new born kitten.
"Swear to you, Jim, I will sedate you into next week if you don't lay still." He crawls into his own bed, next to me. "If you need anything, wake me up, don't try to do it your stubborn self."
Who, me?
He snorts. "I know that look, too. Those innocent eyes aren't fooling anyone." He watches the machines for a moment, then, satisfied; "Try to get some rest. If I'm not here, I'll be close by, or Nurse Chapel will be within earshot."
I want to ask what's happening on my bridge; my injured men, Avios, everything I've slept through.
But this time, the exhaustion is completely natural. Nearly dying wears a man out, apparently.
"I said sleep, Jim." Gently, but firm; Bone's voice is unyielding, and I hear the warning in it. He'll make me, if I don't give into it.
There's no reason why I shouldn't, so I do.
I wake strapped down again, but at least I know where I am immediately. I don't fight the straps and I don't try to speak; instead, I lay and stare at the ceiling until Bones walks in, carrying a PADD and refusing to look at me.
"Finally awake again, I see." He says after a moment.
Why am I…. I open my mouth, and then snap it shut quickly as pain flares when I try to speak. At least I don't start to cough. It's more like someone ran a flame down the inside of my throat, lighting everything on fire just for a split second.
"Jim…." He sets the PADD down, checking my readings and reaching out to gently begin removing the straps. "What do you remember, about Avios, anything?"
……A lot, actually. More then I'd like to think about or admit to. But I want to know why I'm restrained again. I'd rather know that then remember in vivid detail what it was-
"Because you kept saying, take me." He goes on quietly, and I feel my heart stop.
He meets my eyes, his own quiet and gentle. He's not looking at me with pity- he knows what I bad idea that would be, knows exactly how I would react to it-but there is empathy there, and that is pure Bones.
Take me.
A voice, rasping and dry with pain, carrying through cell after empty cell, all empty but one other, where she is. Young and beautiful and more badly hurt even then him, she has been here for months. She is very gentle, and tries to help him when she can, and she can't be any older then fourteen. Just a baby, just a little girl-
"-Jim?" A hand on my shoulder and I jump, lurching away as far as I am allowed. My reaction startles him almost as much as it startles me- I don't think I've ever pulled away from him. I don't remember ever fearing touch, ever having a reason to.
I don't. I was just startled.
He seems to read it. I look away, and his hand tightens on me. "What was it?"
I don't want to t-er, think about it.
He lets go of me slowly. "Jim, if I remove these restraints, and you start thrashing around again, you could seriously injure yourself or one of my nurses." He says coolly, and the anger is hiding in his voice, below the concern. "You're strong, Jim- you're no Spock but you belted nurse Chapel in the face last night and damn near broke her nose."
Oops.
I flinch slightly, turning to face him again. . Noted, apology to come. I owe the poor woman that; from his face, I'd say that was the least of what I'd done. He acknowledges the apology on my face, and snorts, but his expression softens. "Whatever you're keeping from me is what's sending you into violent dreams at night, so you have two choices." He folds his arms. "You spend the next remaining two weeks in restraints, or you let me know what's going on up here." His finger raps the side of my head lightly.
I don't want to remember her. Or what they did to her. I don't want to remember what she'd looked like the last time she'd come back, beaten and bruised so badly that I'd barely been able to tell what she looked like under the injuries. So weak she couldn't cry. Bleeding from a place no woman should ever bleed, loosing so much of it-and nothing I could do. No way I could save her. Helpless. Just one cell over, just outside of arm's reach, and I hadn't been able to do anything but comfort her while-comfort her.
I don't want to think about it. I turn my head away again and close my eyes, my refusal unchanging and unflinching. Call me stubborn ,stupid, a coward, a fool- I don't care. I've heard it all and words, frankly, don't mean anything to me. And if it had been you there, you who had seen that little girl, who had watched as the gentlest little soul you had ever seen, as it was fouled and destroyed slowly just because she was human-you wouldn't want to remember that, either.
Bones sighs from behind me. "Restrained it is, then." He says quietly, sounding equal parts angry and sad. I think it scares him, seeing me like this, knowing something horrible happened and unable to reach me to help.
He's always been able to reach me.
But it's more then a lack of speech that's keeping us apart now. I know I'm building a wall, but knowing it doesn't mean I can stop it; and I wonder if even Bones can tear this one down. I have the feeling he's sure as hell going to try.
