Author's Note: Hey my dudes, I'm sorry for the wait. It was my birthday recently and I was doing stuff. Anyway, sad ahead. Heads up. It should get better after this.
The intercom whistled.
"Spock to sickbay," came the hail.
"McCoy here."
It hadn't even been two hours. The tight thing that had been growing in Bones' gut rolled over and dropped like an overripe peach from the branch, landing with a splat somewhere near his feet. Something had to be terribly wrong.
"Jim's fever is increasing once more and his respiration has slowed. In addition, he seems to be suffering from urticaria on his limbs. But I am unsure if this is an allergic reaction or not."
"Give him the hypo, Spock," Bones told him urgently, smacking his hand down on the desktop next to the intercom speaker. "If it's not an allergic reaction, the medication won't affect him and we've got a bigger problem. Now, I'm gonna need you to check his pulse, preferably in his neck."
"I've administered the hypospray. And I'm placing my pinky over his carotid artery. It will be a moment before I can give you his heart rate."
"Good, Spock, but I don't need an exact rate, just slower or faster than average. I'm going to start prepping things down here. How hot do you think his fever is?"
"I believe it is approximately one hundred and six degrees fahrenheit."
"Shit! Shit. Nurse!"
The nearest unoccupied nurse scurried over to his doorway, looking worried. It was Lwalliho, a second generation Betazoid-human hybrid. Her empathic ratings were high but beyond that, she seemed telepathically psi-null.
"Nurse Lwalliho! I need you to head into the hydrotherapy room and prepare an ice bath. Then I need to you to gather up a bloodwork kit and the supplies to set a cold saline drip."
"What is wrong, Doctor?" Spock asked over the intercom while Nurse Lwalliho trotted off to do what Bones had ordered.
"You got that report on his pulse?" Bones asked instead of answering.
"Arrhythmic and faster than average. The hypospray does not seem to be doing anything to combat his symptoms."
"Shit. God damn! That's because it isn't an allergic reaction. Okay, Spock, I need to you bring him down here stat! McCoy out."
And with that, Bones was jogging to the med-grade synthesizer in the locked room where they stored all the hazardous medical supplies. Having been Jim's friend for years it was easy to start punching in codes for an antibiotic powerful enough to work on what he thought Jim might have without killing him. He was still gonna hit him with a safeguard and a boost, just in case. Jim had survived fucking radiation poisoning and a subsequent revival from death. No way was Bones gonna let him die now.
He had just finished, armed with three different hypospray cartridges, when Spock came bursting through the doors. Bones was headed in his direction before he actually focused on what he was seeing.
Spock was rushing to meet him, shirtless still and wearing his pajama bottoms. Cradled in his arms like precious cargo was Jim, also shirtless— And completely limp. His head and one arm were tucked against Spock's hairy chest, the other arm hanging limply down. Jim's face was pinched and red and sweaty; his cracked lips were parted as he breathed heavily and shallowly. And covering his arms and the little bit of his legs Bones could see - from the shin down - were splotchy, bright red, swollen rashes.
And he was shaking.
"Doctor," Spock greeted tightly, and Bones could hear his distress from that, see it in the robotic movements of his body.
Bones said nothing but he did snatch up Jim's arm and press the contents of the first cartridge loaded into the crook of his elbow. It was ejected and another was loaded. He repeated the motion twice.
"This way," he heard himself saying, switching to autopilot as he tugged them along, manhandling Spock by the upper arm. They headed toward one of the private rooms in the back of sickbay, where Bones could hear the splash of water and saw Nurse Nwalliho returning with a tub of the supplies he had requested.
"What is wrong with Jim, Doctor?" Spock asked and Bones realized he'd never answered the man before when they were on the intercom.
He wasn't going to now.
They were already in the room and he was barking orders at Nurse Nwalliho.
"Cut his pants off and slap a modesty wrap around him. Then I want you to take a blood sample and test for sepsis and toxic shock. Look for anything else out of the ordinary too, just in case."
Before he was done speaking Nurse Nwalliho had finished cutting Jim's pants and already had the stretchy modesty wrap draped over Jim's lap while the tattered fabric covering him previously hung from Spock's arm where it was still under Jim's knees. She fastened the wrap at Jim's lower back and moved to tear open the blood sample kit.
"Is that what Jim has?" Spock asked, standing there and following every movement in the room. Bones was fastening the cushioned head support to the bottom of the tub - sleeves rolled up and elbow deep in freezing water and a thick layer of floating ice chips.
"Possibly. Could be tetanus, though I'm not sure how. Could be an infected perforation in his gastrointestinal tract. Could be something else entirely. Even a tricorder can only give basic imaging and a list of possibilities. The blood work will tell us for sure. For now though…"
He stood up and checked Jim's temperature and heart rate with a nearby tricorder, syncing the rest of the results to his file to look over later.
"Damn," he couldn't help but say. "He's at a hundred and eight point two. Quick. Get him into the bath."
Spock stepped up to the metal tub and gently began lowering Jim's unconscious form into it. Bones quickly tugged free the shredded pants and tossed them to join the underwear scrap on the floor.
As soon as his lower half hit the water, already partially submerged, Jim came alive with a gasp. His eyes snapped open and he thrashed, clawing at Spock's neck and shoulder.
"No, please! No cold! I don't want to be cold again!" he gasped, kicking at the bottom of the tub and trying to pull himself up and out. Waves of splashing water sloshed over the side of the shallow tub.
Bones saw Spock's arms tighten around Jim as if to pull him back out and he lunged forward, gently wrestling Jim's legs still in the water.
"I'm sorry, Jimbo, but we have to get your fever down," he tried to explain as Jim fought harder, showering them both with freezing water. "Spock a little help here! You have to let go of him!"
He saw Spock hesitate and Jim clung tighter, fingernails raising bright green welts down Spock's neck in a scrabble for a better hold. A constant litany of "no" and "please no" were coming from Jim, who looked to be on the verge of tears. Shit, Bones should have thought to sedate him.
"Spock! You have to put him in the water or his temperature won't go down. If his temperature isn't lowered he'll end up in a coma. Do you want to see him like that again? Go through that again?"
There was a beat as Bones shoved Jim's legs flat on the bottom of the tub but then Spock was shaking his head, looking pained.
"I apologize, Jim," he whispered, reaching for the arm around his neck and prying it free. He held it mid-forearm and pulled the other from over his shoulder. Jim, eyes glassy and bloodshot as tears spilled down his face, tried to wrench them away, throwing waves of water around with his jerks. But Spock, with his greater strength, lowered him into the water and held him there, arms pressed into his chest.
Jim immediately began shivering, twisting and jerking and crying to try and get free. It was obvious he thought he was somewhere else.
"I don't wan'a b-be cold ag-gain. Ple-ease. Always so cold. I'll do anyth-thing. I-I p-p-pro-omise. Just n-no more cold-d-d," he begged, clearly delirious.
"Jim, I want you to listen real close here," Bones said, and gently massaged Jim's thighs just above the knee where his hands were resting. "We're not them and you're not there. You're not there. You're James Tiberius Kirk, Captain of the Starship Enterprise, NCC number one-seven-zero-one. I want you to look at me, Jim."
Jim blinked, like he was trying to process, trying to pay attention, still partially checked out as he stared at the ceiling.
"Look at me, Jimbo."
Jim reluctantly dragged his eyes to Bones' face and blinked in confusion several times.
"Do ya remember who I am, darlin'? Can you tell me my name?"
"B...B-Bones?"
"Yeah, that's right, sweetheart. And who else is here?"
Jim's gaze flickered over to Spock, hovering over the rim of the tub up near his torso.
"Spock," he breathed and there was a level of relief to it that Bones was uncomfortable witnessing.
"Spock," he repeated, and his whole body relaxed almost instantly, mild tremors still in the muscles beneath Bones' hands.
"That's good, darlin', take some deep breaths for me. Just a little longer, kid."
"How long must he remain in the water?" Spock asked, voice tight and soft.
"A full ten minutes. Then we're pullin' him out, dryin' him off, and placin' 'im on a bio bed. I'll take another reading of his core temperature and we're goin'a start him on a chilled saline drip. By then, hopefully we know what's wrong with 'im and I can get 'im started on the treatment to fix it. And I think at this point I'm goin'a have ta check 'im out with an endoscope anyway."
"Doctor, your accent is worsening again."
"Shut up, ya damn green-blooded hobgoblin. Your pretentiousness is showing again."
Bones checked the chronometer on the wall and made to stand up but Jim jerked suddenly, a small fearful grunt escaping him as Bones' hands left his legs. Bones placed them back and looked at Spock.
"Your turn," he simply said, and Spock looked to Jim and let go of his arms. Jim hands shot up out of the water in a spray and desperately grasped at them. He whimpered. Spock carefully took Jim's wrists and held them, lowering them back to his chest and under the water.
"Alright," Bones's said and lifted his hands again, water dripping from his arms and splish-plopping back into the tub. Jim made a noise in the back of his throat.
"I'm not going anywhere, sweetheart," he said gently to Jim, who was following him with his gaze as he stood. Bones began backing away toward the cabinet that held the bath sheets. "We're pullin' you outta that bath now. Gonna dry you off and take you to a nice, cozy room. You're not there and we're not leaving you, darlin'. Don't fret your pretty little head."
He pulled out one of the large towels and laid it out on the floor, close to the tub. Then he gabbed another and left it folded nearby.
"Ready, Spock," he said, and bent down to grab under Jim's knees. Spock adjusted his hold on Jim by placing his hands under his arms and grabbing his ribs. "One, two, three."
And they pulled Jim out of the tub in a cascade of frigid, turbulent water. Quickly, they placed him on the laid out sheet and bundled him tightly in it, rubbing his skin dry with careful but efficient motions. Jim remained silent, watching and lightly chattering his teeth. He never took his eyes off Spock once the Vulcan moved to softly petting his hair dry with a corner of the towel.
Bones took the distraction as a good time to remove the wrap from Jim and slip a pair of white medical undergarments over his legs, fastening them at the hip.
"Lift him up, Spock, so I can get a dry towel around him," Bones ordered and Spock obeyed, barely sparing him a glance as he cradled Jim close and helped Bones wrap him in the extra towel.
"And I think it's time to relocate," he said and stood, allowing Spock to slip his arm under Jim's knees and lift him up all on his own.
They moved further back in sickbay to the private rooms and Bones keyed open the one he usually put Jim in. Spock placed Jim on the bed with an almost reverent gentleness, even as Jim was starting to fade into unconsciousness again. Bones found that Nurse Nwalliho had left the IV kit and saline bag in the small cooling unit in the room. Bones loved his nurses. Really, he did.
It took no time at all to poke the needle into Jim's arm, hook up the bag, and insert the line into the catheter while Spock pet Jim's hair and soothed him. By that time, Nurse Nwalliho was returning to the room with a pad held out to him.
"Typical," he muttered to himself but as usual, Spock heard.
"What is 'typical?'"
He tapped the memo pad open and jotted down a line of codes with his finger to synthesize a couple rounds of Jim-friendly antibiotics, then sent them to Nurse Lwalliho's handheld padd in her pocket. She retrieved it when it blooped and checked the list before nodding once and leaving.
"He tests positive for both of the bacteria that causes toxic shock and a separate bacteria that's entered his bloodstream. We're going to have to put him on all of the drugs and do some endoscopic regeneration as soon as his fever's down to an acceptable level. Shit. I just knew this was going to happen."
Bones sighed and rubbed a hand over his mouth, already starting a schedule for Jim's treatment in his head.
"He'd been doing so good recently, I thought, 'hey, maybe this time it'll be different! I pumped him full of super serum and we practically replaced all of his blood. He was doing so much better that some of his more mild allergies even disappeared! It'll be different. normal. easy.' And of course, Jim just loves to prove me - and everyone else - wrong."
"What happens now, Doctor?" Spock asked and Bones looked at him, truly examined him. He saw the way Spock leaned protectively over Jim's curled form, the way he continued to card his fingers through Jim's hair, saw the worried tightness around his eyes and in the hinge of his jaw, the rigidity of his posture.
Bones sighed heavily.
"I get him on antibiotics. We keep him hooked up to a drip and get his fever down, hold it there. Then I go in and heal him up from the inside-out. We sanitize everything and everyone on this goddamned ship - because if the bacteria is present and Jim has it, anyone else can end up the same - and we make him comfortable. Then, maybe if he's better at the end of this week, we can move him back into his quarters. But only if I can get the ship scrubbed down and Jim's quarters done twice over."
Bones could see Spock about to say, "That is most illogical, Doctor. A second sanitization process would be completely unnecessary." But then he looked down at Jim's unconscious face, still flushed - but less so, and Bones saw something closer to angry, tense agreement in his gaze.
"I will give out the order myself, Doctor."
And if it were possible, Bones knew Spock would fight off any bacteria, virus, or microbe that threatened Jim's health himself.
He went toe-to-toe with Khan for Jim. At this point, Bones suspected there was nothing Spock wouldn't do to save their captain.
AN: Ice baths. They aren't a thing. Except for athletes. Some athletes do it. But medically, it's not a thing. Cool baths yes. Ice, no. But for the sake of drama, it's a thing. Let's just pretend that Bones is doing like a double whammy on that fever. A one-two knockout. See, it totally makes sense like that.
Side note, as much as I'm loving torturing Jim, I'm having even more much fun making Spock an upsetti-spaghetti over it. Your thoughts?