A/N: I am very sorry for how long it took to get another chapter out! Thank-you to all who are reading and to those who have been patient with me!

It was a peaceful day.

Except for the blaring of sirens approaching and the bloodied messes that piled into the ER waiting room. There was a bar fight involving over fifteen cadets and now each and every one of them was being escorted into the waiting room with a litany of injuries. The worst were hobbling their way over to different exam rooms with nurses prepping them for the present doctors.

Leonard McCoy walked into exam room five and looked at the chart.

Two broken ribs, four bruised, broken nose, lacerations above the right ear and right eye, multiple bruises, and a mild to moderate concussion.

"Damn…" McCoy swore. Who could have gotten themself into this kind of condition? Must have been one heck of a fight.

McCoy slid open the curtain, quickly closed it back up and looked into the blackened eye of his first patient.

Into the eyes of James Tiberius Kirk.

"Got yourself into another mess kid?"

Jim slowly blinked at McCoy, seemingly having a hard time comprehending the situation at hand.

Finally, a slow response came.

"Yeah."

No comment on being perfectly fine, just resignation that he got beat half out of his mind.

McCoy strangely felt a pang of sympathy for the kid. Maybe he's just drunk, McCoy thought hopefully. He tried for a response on how much Jim drank that evening, but all he got was a grunt. Upon testing his alcohol level he found that it was well below the limit and decided that more questions could wait. There were more pressing issues at hand.

His patient was falling asleep sitting up, slowly listing to the side, but jerked awake after the pressure on his injured ribs proved too much even for the exhausted cadet.

That was when the first intelligible response came. "Bones just fix me up. Please." Jim almost pleaded.

McCoy responded with a sympathetic tone. "I am kid, I am. I'm going to give you some painkillers; you look like you could use some."

"No, no hypos. They are nasty things." Jim's voice was strong despite his weak appearance.

"Jim, you are hurting. It is either this or an IV, your choice. Just one quick injection or being tied down for a few hours. I'm fine with either."

There was a long pause.

"Fine, but just one." McCoy then quickly injected Kirk.

"Ow! You don't have to put so much force behind it, you know." Kirk glared.

"Stop being such an infant."

"Just get on with it." Jim wasn't the happiest camper.

The damage ranged from superficial to severe and Bones patched Jim up as best as modern medicine allowed. Even with pain killers, by the middle Jim was pale and sweating with short gasps of breath coming from his pursed lips.

"Jim? " McCoy called his attention away from the ceiling. "I'm going to give you something stronger, but it is going to cause you to be drowsy." Jim gave a small nod as McCoy readied the hypo.

Soon after, Jim's body visibly relaxed and his eyelids began to droop.

"Just rest Jim, you'll be fine."

And that he did.


Jim woke to the sight of a stark white ceiling. Something was tickling his nose and he struggled to blink the fog away. He raised his hand to his nose and found a cannula there and started to remove it until a voice bellowed over.

"Leave that there, you idiot. I wouldn't have put it there if you didn't need it." Bones looked exasperated. "When you were sleeping you were having some trouble breathing, so for now don't touch it, just rest and heal."

Jim couldn't lie to himself.

He was exhausted.

Lately he had been running on fumes. He just plain couldn't sleep and even if he was able to catch a few hours here and there, his sleep was never peaceful. It hadn't been in over ten years, and the best he could get would be a seemingly dreamless sleep.

Jim looked up at McCoy and put on a false bravado. "Can't I just go Bones? I feel fine, never been better!"

McCoy gave him a flat look. "I highly doubt that Jim. I want you to stay overnight for observation. End of story."

Jim watched McCoy as he edged over to his IV and adjusted something on it.

His IV.

"When did that get there?" Jim asked calmly, he was suddenly feeling very sleepy.

"A little after that" McCoy pointed to the cannula "got there."

"Bones?" McCoy cringed at the name, but answered anyway.

"Yeah, Jim?"

"You really should stop giving me sedatives. They make me feel…fluffy and I can't even get angry enough to tell you about how much I hate this thing." Jim held up his arm and dangled the IV tubing.

"Not gonna happen Jim, they're the only way to keep you 'tied down' and out of trouble." McCoy glanced back over at Jim his eyebrows were furrowed in confusion.

"I mean really, I feel fluffy and itchy, and does the room always look like that?" Jim's breathing suddenly became raspy. McCoy looked up at the monitor and saw Jim's heart rate begin to rise, skyrocket was more like it.

"Jim!"

"What did you… give me Bones?" It was getting hard for Jim to catch a breath.

Jim was having an allergic reaction to the mild sedative that McCoy gave him. McCoy quickly grabbed the hypospray, administered a dose of epinephrine into his patient's quaking form, and increased the amount of oxygen. Suddenly, Jim's heart rate lowered and his blood oxygen rose to a normal level.

McCoy gave a sigh of relief.

"Good god man, seriously. What aren't you allergic to? I read through your file before I administered the drug and didn't see it there."

Jim gave him a smirk.

"It isn't funny Jim; you could have died." McCoy shot him a sullen look.

"Well, I am still here… alive and kickin', aren't I?" The ability to breathe was slowly coming back to Jim.

"That could become debatable, Jim. Real fast." McCoy glared.

"Ah Bones…don't be that way…Ah! Damn it, Bones!"

McCoy administered another sedative and watched Jim as he slowly drifted off to unconsciousness.

He then pulled over a chair, slowly sat and watched. He didn't know why he cared so much. Jim was just making it up to acquaintance status and yet he felt such concern for the young man. Jim was just so reckless and it seemed as though every day he was walking towards death's door.

McCoy rubbed a shaking hand over his stubbly face.

He was protective of Jim Kirk even though he barely knew him other than his medical record. But still, Jim needed someone to watch over his dangerous self, didn't he?

McCoy stared at Jim as his breaths became more even in his dreamless sleep.

And soon McCoy fell into an awkward sleep next to Jim in his uncomfortable hospital chair.


I hope that you all enjoyed the chapter! I am not very good at keeping an intense moment going, so I apologize if it was boring in any way, shape, or form. As always, I would love any and all comments!