Caught in the Crossfire: Chapter Fourteen

"I am ready to speak about the events of the past days, Nyota."

Uhura put her book down and faced Spock. They had been sitting quietly in his cabin, both reading in each other's embrace. She looked up at him with her huge brown eyes. "I'm glad to hear that."

He turned to face her on the couch, his posture stiff and unwelcoming. "I have been thinking about what happened on Xentia." He hesitated briefly, Nyota smiling compassionately and taking his hand in hers. He tensed his fingers at the contact, but she refused to let go. "When the Captain was first injured, my main priority was getting him safely off the planet. It was not until Doctor McCoy began to treat him in the safety of Mak'ai's home that my emotions began to surface."

Spock finally leaned back into the plush couch, releasing her hand. Nyota followed suit along with him. She scooted closer to him and laid her head on his shoulder. She hoped he would relax at her closeness, but he remained rigid. "Let it out, Spock. We've been working so hard these last few months to get in touch with your human side." She snuggled into his body. "It'll be good for you."

"I was…worried. When I watched Doctor McCoy remove the projectiles from the Captain's abdominal cavity without anesthesia…"

She sat up, covering her mouth with her hand. "Without meds?" She swallowed hard. "That must have been awful."

"It was unpleasant. The Captain's screams were very difficult to listen to." His shoulders began to slump ever so slightly as he allowed himself to express his feelings.

Tears fell from Uhura's eyes. "He screamed. I'm so sorry, Spock."

"Do not feel sorry for me, Nyota. If you wish to express sympathy for anyone, it should be Captain Kirk or Doctor McCoy."

She felt her stomach tighten into knots. She couldn't even imagine what it must have felt like for Kirk. "Was he conscious the whole time?"

"Negative. He passed out as the Doctor removed the first bullet." His eyes seemed distant as he retold the events. "He remained unconscious for the duration of the procedures."

She breathed a sigh of relief. "I guess that makes me feel a little better. I'm sorry I interrupted you, Spock. Please, go on."

"As I was saying, my emotions began to waver as the Captain cried out. I felt…" He hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "…helpless."

Uhura looked down at her hands. She had never heard Spock use such a phrase to describe himself before. She watched his mannerisms closely as he tried to express feelings that had to have been so very foreign to him. Although he still sat well back into the couch, his hands were clasped tightly in his lap, his legs uncrossed and very stiff. He stared straight ahead as he talked.

He continued, his expression pensive. "Watching the Doctor work, knowing that the only action I could assist with was holding Captain Kirk down…was upsetting."

Uhura decided to dig deeper. "Upsetting how? What about the whole situation bothered you?"

Spock briefly turned to look at her, his left eyebrow raised questioningly before returning his gaze into the middle of the room. He sat quietly for a moment before answering. "I was uncomfortable knowing that Captain Kirk was in considerable pain and that I was allowing it to go on, even though, logically there was no other course of action Doctor McCoy could have taken. The Captain would have died without intervention." He inhaled deeply. "I felt his body shaking beneath my hands as he tried to arch off the bed, and even though he was in an extremely weakened state, his ability to attempt to escape from my grip was substantial. I felt…guilty."

"Guilty because Kirk was in pain?"

"Not entirely. I felt guilty because I was doing nothing to stop it."

Uhura was proud of Spock. It had taken months of work to get him to a point where he was willing to share even the most basic of emotions with her. And now, to have him bare himself like this—she felt honored.

"But you felt relieved when it was all over, right?"

Spock nodded. "Yes. For the moment."

Uhura cocked her head in surprise. "What do you mean?"

"After a short amount of time, a group of Ka'al's men came looking for us. Mak'ai was able to lead them astray by hiding us. The Captain had a seizure as they were leaving." Spock went on, his voice softening. "I was afraid for Captain Kirk. It was the first time since the passing of my mother that I was confronted with the possibility of someone close to me dying."

Uhura knew that the situation had been bad on the planet, and that Kirk had been in dire straits, but to hear everything from Spock's mouth, information that the rest of the crew was not privy to—it took her breath away.

"But he didn't die, Spock. He's alive. You must feel comforted by that fact." She offered a warm smile.

"I do, Nyota. Although my encounter with Doctor McCoy this afternoon made those feelings of dread crop up once again."

She remembered Spock's reaction when the call had come in from Sick Bay that Kirk was being taken back to surgery. He had sat stoically in the Captain's chair as she relayed the message. He simply nodded and thanked her for the update. Anyone else on the bridge would have seen nothing in his face, his expression. But Nyota knew better. She could tell that the news had shaken him. She hadn't known that Spock had seen McCoy after the fact.

"What did he say to you?"

Spock's face contorted in thought. "He gave me troubling news. His body language indicated that he was uncomfortable speaking with me. I could tell that his emotions were, as you would say, 'haywire.'"

Uhura sat forward and turned to face Spock, crossing her legs underneath her body. "What did he do?"

"He was extremely distant and unwilling to hold more than a brief conversation. While this behavior is typical of Doctor McCoy on a daily basis, his mannerisms seemed to indicate that he was under extreme duress. When I inquired about the Captain's condition, he began to shake and was reluctant to make eye contact."

Uhura sighed. "He was scared."

"Precisely. He informed me that Captain Kirk had lost his heartbeat and had to undergo an emergency splenectomy to save his life."

"And how did that make you feel?"

Spock pursed his lips, his posture stiffening. "Extremely concerned. I did not anticipate the severity of the Captain's condition. I wrongly assumed that the surgery was not as emergent as it turned out to be. Furthermore, upon learning that the Captain had been clinically dead for several moments, it became very apparent that he had been in dire straits. I was worried."

"Worried for whom?"

"The Captain, because his life had been in grave danger numerous times since being injured, and to a lesser degree, Doctor McCoy." He sat forward, his back straight as an arrow. "It was obvious that he was feeling ill, and when I offered to contact Doctor M'Benga for him, he declined and walked away from me."

Uhura clasped her hands in her lap. "Sounds to me like he couldn't take the stress anymore. They're pretty close friends, Spock. It must have been horrible for him to have to work on the Captain like that. I mean, I know he's done it probably more times that he'd care to talk about, but still…"

"My thoughts exactly, Nyota. I found myself feeling sadness for Doctor McCoy. To see someone you care about deeply, as the doctor does for the Captain, going through such turmoil must have been heart wrenching. I assume that the added pressure of being the one to care for Captain Kirk on such a traumatic level weighed heavily upon him."

She moved in close next to him and pushed him back against the couch so she could curl into his body. She smiled when he didn't protest. "You're really beginning to understand emotions better, Spock. I'm proud of you."

"Thank you, Nyota. I admit that learning to harness my emotions has not been without difficulty, but I trust that with your assistance, I can continue to make progress."

Uhura chuckled and lifted herself up to kiss Spock on the cheek. "You're welcome. And you're a good friend to both of them."

XxX XxX XxX XxX XxX

…The room was dark, and McCoy could feel Jim's body heat radiating onto him. He tightened his arms around the man next to him, nuzzling his chin into Kirk's hair. He listened to the sound of Jim's breathing, steady and strong, as he slept. McCoy didn't want this moment to end.

Jim stirred, murmuring in his sleep. McCoy smiled in the darkness as Jim curled into his chest, his blond hair tickling his bare skin. He could feel Kirk's heartbeat thumping under his palm, splayed across the younger man's back.

The hum of the Enterprise's engines reverberated through the walls of the cabin, creating a calming effect on the sleepy doctor. He turned his eyes up and to the side, looking out of the large window along the wall. Millions of stars dotted the blackness of space. He felt his eyelids grow heavy as he stared out at the void.

With his soul mate curled up next to him, he felt as content as he'd ever felt in his entire life. He had a great career on the Federation's flagship, captained by the love of his life. Hell, he even enjoyed being around Spock from time to time.

Jim sighed heavily in his sleep, rolling over onto his back. McCoy rolled on his side and propped himself up on an elbow. He watched Kirk sleep, his eyes flitting back and forth under his lids with his dreams. McCoy leaned over and kissed his parted lips lightly, Kirk's mouth curling up in a small unconscious smile. The doctor lingered for just a moment at Jim's side before laying down once again, pulling the thin blanket up over them both as he did so.

He exhaled deeply as he allowed sleep to consume him.

McCoy was awakened abruptly when the whole room began to shake. His eyes shot open and he sat bolt upright in bed. He turned to wake Jim, only to find him missing. A giant bloodstain marked the sheets where he once lay.

Leonard began to panic.

"Jim? Where are you?"

He threw the blankets from his body, and tumbled out of bed. When he got to his feet, he was no longer in the bedroom, but on the bridge, clothed in his medical uniform. He quickly scanned for the Captain, unable to locate him.

The attention of the entire bridge crew was focused on a large reptilian being standing in front of the view screen. The alien had its back to them, and looked as if it was clutching something in front of its body. McCoy could just make out black Federation-issue boots dangling between the reptile's legs. The creature began to laugh and slowly turn around.

It was Ka'al.

And he had Jim by the throat.

Kirk struggled to breathe as he frantically tried to wrench the warrior's fingers away from his neck, his face turning beet-red, eyes beginning to roll back from lack of oxygen. The long, thin claws on Ka'al's fingers pierced into the soft flesh of Kirk's throat, and blood began to dribble down, staining his gold command tunic. Jim desperately tried to kick his legs in an attempt to get away from Ka'al, but the action only made the enemy tighten his grip.

"Let him go!"

The entire bridge crew turned their attention to McCoy, and he was horrified when they all appeared faceless. One by one, they began to disappear, flickering from existence as if they had been caught in a faulty transporter beam. Within seconds, he was alone on the bridge with Ka'al and the Captain.

Ka'al licked his lips with his long, thin reptile's tongue and smirked. "Let him go, you say?" He turned his attention back to his dangling victim. Cocking his head to the side, he narrowed his eyes and squeezed Kirk's neck one last time before throwing him against the screen. Jim collapsed like a limp rag doll, gasping for breath as he curled into a ball on the floor.

McCoy tried to run to his side, only to find his legs didn't work anymore. He looked down to find himself shackled to the floor with leg irons, the chains far too short to allow him to move. Before he knew it, an unseen power pushed him onto his hands and knees, holding him there with the force of a brute. He fought to keep himself from being flattened to the ground entirely.

Ka'al began to move towards Kirk, his boots scraping the pristine shining floor of the bridge. Jim's back was to the soldier, and McCoy attempted to call out to him. He opened his mouth to yell, and was met with silence. No matter how hard he tried, no sound came from his lungs.

He had no way to warn Kirk.

Ka'al towered over the Captain and laughed. In one fluid movement, he flipped Jim onto his back and plunged his hand into his chest. Kirk tried to scream, gurgling blood silencing his cries as it spurted from his mouth and the wound in his torso. Ka'al twisted his fingers counterclockwise, leaning in close enough to be splattered with blood as Jim coughed. Jim's gasping stopped with an abrupt gag as Ka'al tore his heart and lungs from his chest cavity. Kirk's body went limp, his head rolling to the side. Lifeless eyes stared at McCoy.

Leonard tried to scream in horror, silently sobbing at the sight of his lover dead on the floor, his organs hanging from the bloody fingers of a madman. His body shook as soundless cries shuddered through him, his voice still nonexistent. He strained against the manacles, the rusty metal cutting into his ankles as he desperately tried to crawl towards Jim. Tears streamed down his face, turning to ice as they dripped onto the floor and shattered.

Jim's body lay still, blood trickling from the sides of his mouth. A giant pool of the crimson liquid collected under his body. McCoy could see into the empty chest cavity, broken ribs jutting out at all angles. His head dropped between his shoulders and he wished Ka'al would come and finish him off. He didn't want to live without Kirk.

He raised his head just in time to see Ka'al kick Jim's lifeless body, then begin to move towards him. He threw Kirk's heart and lungs against the view screen, where they splattered and fell into a bloody pile on the floor. In an instant the chains and cuffs were gone and Ka'al was picking him up by the collar. McCoy closed his eyes and prayed that Ka'al would be swift. From somewhere on the bridge, a soft beeping signal echoed through his ears, as he felt Ka'al's claws dig into his stomach…

McCoy awoke with a jolt, bolting upright and grabbing at his abdomen. His heart raced and he felt as if he were having a heart attack. He hadn't had a nightmare like that since he was a teenager. Spots flickered in front of his eyes, and his mouth became as dry as cotton. He closed his eyes and willed his heart to calm.

The images had been horrendous, the sight of Jim being eviscerated before his very eyes burned into his brain. Kirk's empty eyes had stared at him from beyond—where once they had been full of mischief and spark, they had been vacant and dull. Every time he allowed his own eyes to close, the image haunted him.

But another emotion was seeping into his psyche. One he had been trying to suppress since the arrived on Xentia.

He was mad.

Mad at himself, at Ka'al…mad at Kirk.

Angry at Jim for going down to the planet in the first place, even when he was advised by the doctor not to. Pissed that he had gotten himself into yet another life-threatening situation.

He had spent so much of the last three days keeping Jim alive, that he didn't have time to let the anger that was percolating rear its ugly head. Now, safe aboard the ship and with Jim beginning to turn the corner in his recovery, McCoy was able to finally allow his ire to surface. Even when they had returned, Leonard had been so preoccupied with keeping Kirk alive, that he hadn't had time to properly work on his emotional state. His private outburst hours before had allowed him to release his sadness and frustration—and now all that was left was anger.

McCoy was so pissed at Jim for getting injured, for putting him through a lifetime of hell in a little under three days. He hated the way he had felt before; afraid and anxious. He was a McCoy, dammit, and now here he had been reduced to tears. And it was all Jim's fault.

And then he felt so guilty for blaming Kirk.

But he couldn't help himself. So many years of Jim in pain, in danger-scaring the hell out of him. He tried to tell himself that this situation was just par for the course with Jim Kirk, but these circumstances were happening more frequently than before and he didn't know if he could take it anymore. How could Kirk just throw himself into harm's way and expect to be saved every damn time?

He started to resent Jim for doing this to him. For toying with his emotions, breaking his back—and his mind—every time he had to dig into his belly to suture bleeders or sit vigil next to him praying that the kid would wake up.

And on top of it, he had professed his love for the doctor. They had both admitted to one another their true feelings. And that just complicated everything even more.

Goddammit, Jim.

I'm so pissed.

I can't keep doing this.

I won't.

Something's gotta give.

I love you too much to put up with this behavior anymore.

McCoy felt his anger rising as he tried to shake the last remnants of the dream, the incessant beeping lingering too long. He stuck his finger in his ear and shook it, trying to dissipate the noise.

Wait…that beep…

It's…

…not in my head.

It's the comm.

Leonard looked at the bedside clock as he reached for the communicator on the night table. Twenty-one-hundred hours.

Nine o'clock?

I slept for almost six hours?

He fumbled for the device as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. His whole body protested when he overextended himself to grab the communicator. He flipped it open and began to speak, his voice gravelly from disuse.

"McCoy…"

"Hey, Len. The Captain's awake, and he's asking for you."

McCoy's heart sunk. He had wanted to be there when Jim regained consciousness. He hated thinking about Jim waking up alone and probably in considerable pain. He had wanted to be there, to hold his hand and encourage him to come back gently. Even if he was pissed.

"Is he lucid?"

"For the most part. Somewhat groggy, but he was able to speak coherently and answer some basic questions."

"Is he in pain?"

"Not anymore. I gave ten milligrams of Morphine. He's responding well."

The doctor breathed a sigh of relief and scrubbed his hand over his face "I'll be right there. Tell him I'm coming." McCoy knew that Kirk had a long and painful recovery ahead of him, but he seemed to be moving in the right direction. But only seeing him in person—and talking to him—would cement it for the doctor.

"Sure thing, Doc. Take your time; he's drifting in and out from the pain meds."

"Thanks, Geoff. Give me ten minutes." He snapped the communicator shut and flopped back onto the pillows. He was relieved that Jim was conscious and free of discomfort. But he knew that the discussion they were about to have would weigh heavily on them both. The things he was about to say—about to release like a tsunami on Jim—it wouldn't be easy. For either of them. But it had to be done. If McCoy wanted to have a meaningful relationship with Kirk, he was going to have to get all this crap off his chest. Even if it meant hurting Jim in the process. The kid just had to know how his actions were affecting the doctor.

He rolled over to replace the communicator on the nightstand, putting unwanted pressure on a very full bladder. Groaning, he tumbled out of bed and hit the head before leaving for Sick Bay.

He needed to see Jim.

They had a lot to discuss.

XxX XxX XxX XxX XxX

McCoy immediately closed the door and tinted all the clear glass when he entered the SICU.

Kirk was propped up with pillows in bed. His left arm rested in a sling, draped across his chest, mindful of the regenerator on his abdomen. He appeared to be sleeping, his eyes closed and head turned to the right. The nasal cannula was gone, and McCoy loved the fact that he could now see Jim's entire face, unobstructed.

He quietly made his way to the bedside and began checking Jim's vitals. Everything looked on the up and up. He gently pressed his fingertips to Jim's neck, to reassure himself that his heart was beating strong. The pressure alerted Kirk, whose eyes fluttered open as he turned his head.

"Bones?"

McCoy sat on the swiveling stool next to the bed and leaned in close. "I'm here, Jim."

Jim's eyes crinkled at the corners as he managed a weak smile. "Hi."

The doctor's greeting was nothing more than a grunt. McCoy tried not to melt as Jim attempted to reach up with his right hand, only to find the IV lines too short to stretch far enough. The doctor bent in further to allow Kirk to cup his hand around the back of his neck. Jim's hand was warm and soft, and McCoy couldn't help but get chills down his spine when Kirk touched him. The captain feebly pulled him closer until their lips touched in a soft, gentle kiss.

He wanted to be mad. But Kirk's lips—however dry and cracked they might be—felt so warm against his own. He allowed himself a small moment of contentment as Jim rubbed his thumb through the hair at the nape of his neck.

After a long moment, Kirk's hand fell limp from the doctor's neck and McCoy straightened himself up. Jim's eyes, once unfocused and full of agony, were now more attentive and clearer as he looked up at him. He could tell that Jim was under the influence of the morphine, as his pupils were dilated more than usual, but it seemed as if Kirk was well aware of his surroundings.

"You look tired, Bones."

McCoy snorted. "Tired?" He sighed and shook his head. "Try scared shitless for the past few days. You know how much sleep I've had since we beamed down to that damn planet?"

Jim swallowed hard, licking his dry lips. "Not enough, I'm guessing." His eyes were trying to focus on McCoy's face as his lids blinked lethargically. "Where'd you go? I was worried when you weren't here when I woke up."

McCoy scoffed and looked away. He didn't want to look into those doe eyes. Not when he was mad. It would only make things harder. He turned his attention back to Kirk, fury burning in his stinging eyes. "Don't make me feel guiltier than I already do, Jim." His tone began to rise, and he could hear the anger begin to break through in his voice. "I've spent the better part of the last few days with either my hands inside your belly or sittin' here waiting for you to finally stop knocking on death's door. I'm entitled to try and get some rest, aren't I?"

Kirk scowled slightly. "Of course you are. I just meant that…I was hoping you'd be here when I woke up. I was disappointed."

"I all but bring you back to life and you're disappointed that I'm not at your side every damn minute?" He knew his words stung, and probably sounded unnecessarily mean to Jim, but he couldn't stop the deluge now that it had started.

Kirk frowned. "I didn't…Bones? Why are you so angry?"

McCoy felt his cheeks flush. He knew he needed to get all the pent-up rage out if he and Jim were ever to have a normal relationship again. He loved the kid so much it hurt, and yet he was so pissed that he was beginning to feel irrational.

"You've gotta quit trying to be the goddamn hero all the time! One of these days I'm not gonna be able to help you and you're gonna get yourself killed, and…" He hesitated, then forced himself to lower his voice. "…do you know what that would do to me?"

Kirk silently stared at McCoy with worried eyes.

McCoy continued. "I almost lost you, Jim! And dammit, that makes me so angry that I want to strangle you."

Jim shifted his weight on the mattress in an attempt to move closer to the doctor. "You're really mad, aren't you?"

"Damn right, I'm mad! Do you have any idea what you've put me through?" Jim recoiled at his outburst and McCoy immediately felt guilty. But he had to release what was building up, or he'd go insane. "You think this is some kind of game? This shit's been going on since the first days at the Academy. If I had a Federation Credit for every time I patched you up, killed a hangover with a hypo or put your broken body back together with my bare hands, I'd be rich enough to retire back to Georgia! I…" McCoy shook his head as he let his shoulders sag. "…I can't keep doing this Jim."

The two stayed quiet for a long moment. McCoy refused to look at Kirk.

"I'm sorry, Bones. Okay? I…" Kirk exhaled deeply. "…never meant to hurt you. It's just…"

He finally looked towards the young Captain, and McCoy could tell that Kirk was struggling with his words, although he didn't know if it was from the medications or emotions. He decided to jump in and try to finish Jim's thoughts. "…it's just that you tend to leap without looking, right?"

Kirk nodded.

"Well, you keep leapin' like you do and you're not the only one who's liable to get hurt. You could get someone else killed!"

Kirk answered quietly. "I didn't mean for this to happen. I honestly thought we would run right across that atrium and out the door."

"Yeah, well, it didn't happen that way, did it?"

Kirk rolled his head away from McCoy and stared at the far wall of the SICU. His voice was a low whisper. "What do you want me to say, Bones? That I'll never take another risk? That I won't put my life on the line for the ship and the crew—or for you?"

McCoy huffed. "That would be a nice start."

Jim sighed. "You know I can't do that. I'm the Captain…it's my duty to protect everyone. Even if that means sacrificing myself."

Leonard watched as Jim allowed his eyes to close for a moment. He was beginning to feel guilt-ridden again for bombarding Kirk with all his rampant emotions, dragging the kid back into this mess when he should have been resting. But he just couldn't let it go. There was still so much he needed to get off his chest.

"Just once I'd like to see you think of yourself. A dead Captain's no good to his vessel."

Jim opened his eyes, and rolled his head back towards McCoy. His tone was serious. "Sometimes dying is the only way to ensure the safety of the ship—and everyone aboard her."

McCoy couldn't help but notice the grave tenor to Jim's voice. It unnerved him. "You don't always have to be the sacrificial lamb, you know. Sometimes you just need to know when to back away from a situation—before it gets out of hand."

Kirk didn't reply, and instead turned his attention back to the wall. The two men sat quietly for a long moment, the only sound in the room being the constant beep of Jim's heart monitor. McCoy watched his chest rise and fall evenly with each natural breath. He was thankful the damn vent was gone.

The doctor finally broke the silence. "Aren't you mad at me?"

Kirk furrowed his brows as he turned to look at the doctor. "Why would I be mad at you?"

McCoy rolled his eyes and scoffed. "You serious?"

"Of course."

McCoy shook his head in disbelief. "I dug bullets out of your guts without meds, Jim. I tortured you. Then I drugged you up when you begged me not to. You should hate me…"

Kirk's eyes softened. "Bones, I know you did what you had to do to keep me alive. I can't even imagine what it must have felt like to have to listen to me scream."

McCoy was dumbfounded. "Why are you being so forgiving about this? You should be yelling yourself hoarse at me for all the horrible things I did!"

Jim's pursed his lips, his cheeks beginning to flush. "You want me to be mad? You want the truth? Fine!" His left fist clenched in the recesses of the sling. "When you strapped me down after I begged you not to…I hated you and Spock for it. You knew about Tarsus—how Kodos used barbed chains—and you did it anyway!" Kirk's lips trembled with anger. "And you're right…you tortured me. The feeling of your hands digging in my gut…I just wanted to die. It got to the point where I couldn't scream anymore. I knew it wouldn't matter because I knew you weren't going to stop."

McCoy closed his eyes as Jim fumed, letting everything the young Captain said sink in.

I was right.

I'm a monster.

I brutalized him.

He'll never forgive me.

"Look at me, Bones!"

The doctor opened his eyes and met Jim's, seething and intense. He tried to speak, but found himself unable to utter anything more than a pitiful moan as his body trembled.

"You left me on that cart, for that animal to come find me! You and Spock used me as bait! How could you? What if he had killed me? After everything that we said to each other…you abandoned me." Tears began to form in Kirk's eyes. "And to top it all off…you drugged me when I told you not to. You betrayed my trust."

McCoy let out the breath he didn't realize he had been holding.

Sweet Jesus.

Jim's face contorted with pain. "Is that what you wanted, you bastard? What you needed to hear so we can end this bullshit?" He groaned and screwed his eyes tightly closed. He let out a shaky breath.

McCoy just sat there, trying to process what had just come out of Kirk's mouth. The kid had been honest…brutally so. But he was right. McCoy had needed to hear every word of it.

Even if it broke his heart.

Kirk continued, eyes still clamped shut. "I had decided that you didn't need to hear any of that—ever- because I didn't want you to get hurt. You saved my life; I shouldn't blame you for the pain caused by you doing it. I chose to move past it and forget because I love you. Nothing will ever change that, even if we cause each other both pain." He sighed heavily. "If it's what you needed to hear, so be it. But some things are better left unsaid."

He moved to reach forward and run his fingers through the young Captain's hair, but stopped short. "Jim, I…" Kirk cracked his eyes open, allowing for a single tear to fall from his left eye. He stared at McCoy, waiting. "…thank you."

That's just what I needed.

I wanted you to yell at me.

To call me names.

To tell me how much it hurt.

"You want something for the pain?" McCoy felt awful for making Jim rile himself up and cause discomfort. "I promise if you say 'no' I won't give you anything against your wishes." Jim nodded lethargically. McCoy keyed in the combination to the drug lock-up and retrieved a ready-filled syringe. He injected it directly into the port on the IV catheter and watched as Kirk relaxed.

Kirk peered up at him from his medicated haze. "Are we okay now?"

McCoy sighed and leaned over, kissing Jim on the forehead. "Better than okay. I'm sorry, Jim. For—everything."

"The last thing I wanted to do was hurt you, Bones. I know that you worked your ass off trying to save me, and that it must have been doubly hard since we've taken a new step in our relationship." Kirk swallowed hard, wincing with his dry throat. The doctor took notice and grabbed a glass of water from the bedside. He held the straw to Jim's lips and waited for him to drink. Kirk's head fell back onto the pillows as he finished. "I don't hate you. Please don't feel guilty for something you had to do."

McCoy's shoulders sagged. "But I do feel guilty, darlin'. Your screams, the way your eyes rolled back in your head as you bled out in my arms in that cart, all the pain I caused you…they were the worst moments of my life." He shook his head and looked away. "You shouldn't love me, kid. Not after what I did to you."

Kirk reached over his body with his right hand and opened his palm. McCoy placed his own hand in Jim's. "It's in the past, Bones. I'm alive because of you. Doctors cause pain sometimes in order to save lives. It's just the way things work." He sighed heavily. "You're going to be okay…we both will."

McCoy snorted a small laugh. "Dammit, Jim. I'm the one that's supposed to be doing all the comfortin'. Pretty soon you'll be trying to take over my job as CMO."

Kirk smirked. "Nah…I'm way too good at being Captain."

McCoy leaned in close and brought his lips to Kirk's. Almost instantly, he could tell that Jim's breathing pattern had changed and pulled back to find his Captain fast asleep. He smiled softly. He released Jim's hand and got up, pushing the rolling stool away from him. He quickly grabbed the more comfortable chair with a back and dragged it bedside, as close as he could to Jim. Sitting once again, sinking down into the seat, he cozied himself up against the side of the chair and reached out for Kirk's hand, flopped down over his other arm in the sling. McCoy gently clutched Kirk's hand and watched as the young man rested.

His eyes began to droop and as he dozed, a warm smile crossed his lips.

We're okay, Jim.

Thank you.

XxX XxX XxX XxX XxX

A/N: Special shout-outs to my beta QuietRaine and my good friend Saber Wing. Your input for these last couple chapters made them so much better. Damn those Starfleet officers and their stupid emotions!