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Chapter Nine: Double Take

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After stepping back onto his bridge to a hearty round of applause and too many repeats of "I'm glad you're back, Captain", Jim was able to shake off his clingy nursemaids long enough to get some work done.

First order of business: Get those prisoners off his ship.

Almost before the words could come out of his mouth, Chekov had opened up a line to the Mira, another transport ship from Maraka.

"Mira, this is Captain James Kirk of the USS Enterprise." Jim spoke in his best I'm fine voice into the line. "I am contacting you to confirm your arrival and ensure your ability to accept and transport seven high-security convicts back to Maraka."

"Enterprise, this is Mira Our ETA is 40 minutes. We have an armored guard squad and high-security holdings on board to deal with the prisoners." The crisp, professional voice came back.

"I'm sure you can handle it, but you will forgive me if we take some extra precautionary measures." Jim smiled wryly. "It's been one of those days."

"Understood, Captain."

I doubt it.

Jim cut the line and limped over to stand by Chekov's console. He dropped a hand onto the young man's shoulder. "How're we holding up, Ensign?"

"All syeestems are operating smoothly, kepten." Chekov's smile was a little strained. Jim knew the stressful situation that had been on his shoulders not hours before had taken its toll on him.

"Good work." Jim sighed. "That's what I needed to hear. Why don't you let Lt. Greeling relieve you? Looks like you could use some rest."

"I do not require rest, kepten." Chekov looked a little alarmed at the idea.

Jim thought about arguing with him. Thought about pulling his I'm the Captain here, sir routine, but suddenly realized that maybe his crew needed to see this thing through just as much as he did. He hadn't been the only one walking on glass throughout this whole ordeal.

"Alright." Jim nodded slowly. "I guess you can stick this one out. But once those bastards are off my ship I don't want to see you on the bridge for at least two shifts. Understood?"

Pavlov looked relieved, and smiled widely at his Captain.

"Where is he?" A familiar voice, tight with stress, cut across the bridge as the turbolift opened. Jim scarcely had time to turn around before he was being pulled into a quick, surprisingly strong hug.

"Missed you too." He grinned at his attractive communications officer, trying to pretend that the sudden flurry of motion wasn't making his head spin.

"Stop it." Uhura hit him in the shoulder; Jim couldn't help noticing that her jab was softer than usual. "Are you alright? Are you even allowed out of sick bay?"

"Doctor's orders." Jim raised two fingers to his forehead in a mock salute. "I'm fit as a fiddle."

"I doubt that." Uhura scoffed, but he heard the relief in her voice as she gave him a once over, as though his lies would be pinned on his sleeve. She'd been in holdings assisting Spock, he'd been told, but to be quite honest he was glad to have her back on the bridge. Right now, he needed someone around who wasn't fawning over him like he was about to fall over or run away. As much as he hated to admit it, he felt awkward about all of this unnecessary attention. Not that he would have minded if he'd just returned a victorious hero and his crew was showering him with worshipful glances and words of praise: but he'd just gotten his ass handed to him, and they were hovering over him because they were waiting for him to break.

As much as he tried to pretend otherwise, that stung.

Bones, whose attention had been mercifully diverted as he made an impromptu examination of one of the ensigns who looked suspiciously caught between a bad head-cold and dead-out drunk, returned to Jim's side before he had a chance to escape off to some other corner of the ship.

"Holding up?" He asked Jim, quite unnecessarily.

"Yes, mother." Jim discreetly lowered his hand from where it had been pressed against his aching ribs.

"I saw that."

Jim tried to look innocent.

Sulu, who had been sidetracked from his self-imposed babysitting task to get on the comm with one of the engineers, returned to Jim's side a moment later. "Commander Spock heard that you were up and about." The pilot informed him. "He would like to know if you are feeling capable of meeting with him."

Not really.

Jim nodded.

"You're not walking down to the hold." Bones' proffered 'suggestion' came out as more of a threat, but for once, Jim was perfectly ready to agree with him.

"Let him know I'll see him in my ready room." He sighed to Sulu.

"A word, Jim?"

Jim glared at his best friend. Bones glared back.

Jim liked to pretend that he had some say in the matter as he was herded into his ready room by a doctor who saw too damn much.

Sulu decided that he had more interesting things to do, and wisely lingered outside as the doors glided shut.

"That's it." Leonard growled as Jim stumbled on thin air. "Sit."

Jim sank heavily into the nearest chair, half-heartedly shrugging off Bones' supportive hand.

"I'm not made of glass, Bones." He sighed into the cool white table as he dropped his forehead onto it. Bones knelt in front of him.

"Could've fooled me." The Doctor had produced a tricorder from out of thin air and was carefully scanning Jim's ribs. Jim had no idea what the beeping and whirring sounds really meant, but he sincerely hoped that nothing had snapped, crackled or popped since he'd left Medical. If it had, then he was done for. He was getting a one-way ticket back to sick bay and no amount of kicking or screaming would save him.

And at the moment, although he'd felt perfectly fine only an hour before, he wasn't even sure if he had the energy to fight. He allowed himself to daydream about a cool, dark hole of a bed and how blissful it would be to crawl into it for a few days. How his throbbing head had stuck around through four days and a surgery or two was incomprehensible to him.

Bones was griping about something as his fingers moved over the tricorder, but Jim had conveniently spaced out. "What?" He slurred, wincing inwardly at the sound.

"I said you're a damn idiot."

"C'mon, Bones. You said that the first time you saw me."

"Second time."

"Like you remember the first time, anyway."

"Actually, I do. Maybe because you take so much pleasure in recounting it every chance you get."

"At least you didn't throw up."

"Well thank heaven for little mercies." Bones was back at him with the tricorder, and once again Jim was left marveling at exactly how much energy had leeched out of his body between Sick Bay and the Bridge. It wasn't even a very long walk.

"Why'm I s'tired?" Jim couldn't believe he'd said it out loud, and judging by the look he gave him, neither could McCoy.

"You just spent two days in a biobed getting your innards sewn back together." Bones scowled. "I'm just an ignorant M.D., you know, but that's my best guess."

Jim waved him off, but his friend wasn't done.

"And maybe you spent the two days before that getting those same innards ripped apart." There was a dark undertone to Bones' voice; one that Jim knew well. He'd heard it altogether too many times before.

"Stop." Jim dropped a too-heavy hand to rest on the back of McCoy's neck, stopping him in his tracks. "You know none of this was your fault, right?"

"Of course I do, you moron." Bones' scowl deepened, and he moved as if to knock Jim's hand away. He didn't. "You're the one who's always flushing yourself down the universal toilet. None of my business."

"Nothing you could do." Jim's forehead was resting on Bones' supporting arm now; he wasn't sure when his eyes had drifted closed, but damn if the darkness wasn't comfortable.

"Hey. Stay awake, Jimmy." McCoy's cool hand slapped his cheek gently.

Jim pried his eyes open to meet his best friend's gaze, too tried to gripe at the detested nickname. He tried to smile, and failed miserably. No matter how tough Bones acted, Jim saw right through him. He was angry at himself, and taking it out on Jim because damn he was afraid of losing him.

Bone' cold exterior caved just a little. "I should have been there." He muttered. That angry spark returned to his eyes.

"Nope." Jim smiled. "Then I would have had to patch you up."

"Yeah yeah. And you can't sew worth a damn."

"That's right."

"Well, I'm here now." It sounded like the words were meant more for McCoy's own comfort than for Jim's. "And you're not putting another scratch on yourself. Got it?"

"Aye, aye." Jim tried to stand. A strong hand planted him firmly back in the chair.

"I thought you said you got it."

Jim glared at him. "I do. No more gallivanting about with escaped convicts. Now let me up."

"What I meant, was no exertion of any kind. But you knew that."

"Bones, I get it. You're a doctor. You've got to take care of people and all that." Jim's exhaustion and stress were toeing the line towards irritability now. "But I'm the Captain of this ship, and I have a job to do."

"Cut the bullshit, Jim." McCoy snapped, almost viciously. "Like I've never heard that routine before."

"Sorry to trouble you with the truth."

"The truth is I just finished sewing you back up, Jim!" Bones' voice was rising. Jim was suddenly very thankful for the soundproof doors. "This might not mean anything to you, but I've put a damnlot of effort into keeping you alive this week and I'm not going to let you spit on that."

"Well maybe you should just stop trying." Jim bit out. "I'm obviously not a very appreciative person."

"Fuck your pride, Jim." Bones hissed, leaning forward. "Maybe it's time you started giving a shit about the people who give a shit about you."

Startled, Jim blinked at Bones. He'd underestimated just how angry his friend was.

"I don't know why you're freaking out about this Bones—"

"Oh yes you do."

"I don't have to put up with this." Jim growled. He tried not to notice how his limbs were shaking as he tried to push Bones away; tried to give himself enough room to stand.

Jaw clenched, Bones pushed away, body tight with tension and anger as he stalked across the room.

Jim didn't know what to say; what to do. He was used to a pissed-off, fire-blooded, sharp-tongued Bones. He was used to laughing and grinning while his friend blew off steam by behaving like a porcupine with a temper. But this was something different. Bones was angry, and Jim was starting to get the feeling that this fact had to do with a lot more than Jim being stubborn.

Bones clenched and unclenched his fists, half-pacing. Several times it looked like he was about to launch off on Jim again, but he kept stopping himself.

Feeling more than a little stung, Jim pushed back.

"Why don't you just say it, Doctor McCoy?" His voice was full of a bitterness he could no longer conceal. "You obviously have something on your mind. Get it out."

Bones made a noise that was somewhere between a frustrated yell and a growl. "Goddamnittall!"

Jim was at a complete loss. He was having the oddest sense of dejavu at the moment, his mind flying back two years to a particularly dark night at the academy that smelled like whiskey and tears and felt like the heart-wrenching kind of pain that men have a hard time sharing with one another at the best of times. It was almost certainly a night that had been a defining moment in their friendship: but what had made it could have just as easily have broken it.

Jim laughed awkwardly, trying to stand straight. "Look, if you don't want to be here—"

"I didn't want to be here, remember? I didn't want a post on some god-forsaken federation ship trolling the deepest regions of nowhere. You dragged me here, Jim."

Damn Bones was pissed.

"I'll put in a transfer request for you immediately." Jim retorted icily, and why the hell was his head throbbing so badly again? "Maybe we can find you a nice, quiet little post on a moon somewhere. No more 'complete morons' screwing with your daily schedule."

"You don't get it, you never have." Bones whirled to face him. "The day I met you I signed my life away to following you around with a tricorder stuffing your guts back into your body every time they fall out." If Bones saw how his words were impacting Jim, he chose not to notice. "I didn't choose this. I didn't choose to see all those goddamn hairline fractures all over your body, and I didn't choose to read your medical history to find out why the hell you don't sleep. I didn't ask to hear all about your shitty childhood and your shitty family."

Jim recoiled, feeling like he'd been punched in the chest. He tried to remember how to breathe but there was something lodged in his throat and it was screaming at him to turn tail and just run before he snapped. He stared at his friend—no, this was only his colleague—and felt the barriers falling back into place.

"You don't know how to handle relationships of even the most trivial kind." Bones raged. "You don't know how to care about people; you don't know how to be a goddamn adult."

Jim breathed in deeply, his mind screaming at him to escape the situation by whatever means necessary. This is a really bad time for this I can't handle this right now please shut up goddamnit SHUT UP.

The ringing in his ears was, suddenly, mercifully, blocking out the angry voice that was determined to dredge up all of his deepest fears and insecurities and pile them on his shoulders until he was driven straight into the ground. He tried to focus; tried to call upon some of that steel resolve and unshakable strength that had been so invaluable to him as a child.

I don't need this.

He felt like screaming.

He couldn't move.

The shrill wailing of a communicator cut through both Jim's self-loathing haze and Bones' voice. The sound startled him enough to kick-start his lungs into working again, and he drew in a long, shaky breath.

"Yeah. I'll be right down." Bones was snapping into his communicator. He paused a moment, as if he meant to continue his tirade.

Jim braced himself.

Without another word, Bones clipped his communicator back onto his belt and stalked out of the room.

There was a bathroom at the other end of the ready room. Jim made it to the toilet before getting sick.

He may or may not have blacked out for a few minutes. He really couldn't be sure. All he knew was that, at some point, he became aware of an incessant rapping sound somewhere above him. He didn't remember closing the door, but he must have. Sluggishly, he pulled himself to his feet. He had to prop himself up against the doorframe, but he managed to slide the door open.

Spock stood there, one hand raised mid-knock. "Captain, are you well?" The Vulcan's eyebrows drew together in the faintest suggestion of a frown.

Jim nodded wearily, pulling one hand through his hair and down his face. He distantly wondered if he was dreaming.

"Were you ill?" Spock reached out a helping hand; it was a friendly gesture.

Jim wasn't seeing anything as a friendly gesture right now.

"Don't touch me." He jerked back, unable to sort through his haywire emotions. On top of everything else that had happened over the past few days, he wasn't sure he could make it through another impromptu mind-meld with the Vulcan without going off the deep end. More than anything, he didn't want anyone touching him.

Spock stepped back respectfully, but still watched Jim in that frustrating way; a way that suggested he was still just waiting for him to fall.

It seemed like that's what everyone was waiting for, these days.

"I'm sorry." Jim grasped for his self-respect. "Kind of on edge."

"The sentiment seems logical."

"You needed to speak with me?" Jim hedged awkwardly. Change the subject. Get your mind off it.

"I had some queries regarding the prisoner situation, but I do believe that I have the parameters suitably accounted for."

"Oh. Good." Jim still felt like he was a long way away from his first officer.

"May I suggest that you take the rest of the shift off?" Spock seemed a little hesitant to say it. "I am more than capable of supervising the crew in your absence, and some rest would do you well."

Jim waved a hand at him, straightening. "I'm ok, Spock. I need to see this through."

Spock did not have time to raise further protest. The door to the ready room slid open to reveal one very flustered looking Chief Engineer.

"Captain." Scotty was breathless and shaken. "You gotta come down to the holding deck. We may have a problem."

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Yay reviews!

Obviously, I chose to finish up with the original plot. You have at least another chapter or two heading your way, my gluttonous readers. ;)

(Also, Bones is not really an ass. I love him too much to make him an ass. All will be well in the end, I promise!)

To answer the most frequently asked question: Yes, there will be another story. I do believe it will be an academy fic. I'd like to be able to go back and explain a lot of the little quirks and anecdotes surrounding Bones and Jim's friendship.

Again, I don't have time for a lot of review answers (still at work!) but I am oh so grateful for them. Thank you for your kind words. You make me squee. :) :)

Spinalcracker: How can I say no to milkshakes and biscuits? It's a deal. :3

Also, I'll be taking prompts for more stories to continue the series at the end of this fic. I thought I would give you all a heads up so you can put your thinking caps on. :)

Hope you enjoy!