"Apology doesn't mean that you were wrong, or the other person was right, it means that your relationship us more valuable than your ego."

I'll be Good

Chapter 25

Jim feels the beginning of the second wave of withdrawals early Sunday morning. The pain shoots through his spine, rattling his appendages, and sending a shit storm straight to his brain.

He groans, tossing over, not quite sure what's even beneath him anymore. It's soft and cushiony, the fabric sliding gracefully against his sweaty hands. Coolness seeps into his forehead, and he can feel droplets of sweat rolling down his cheeks. His stomach spasms and he curls tighter, a whimper escaping his cracked lips.

This is almost as bad as getting damn sepsis. But this drug withdrawal is a different pain. It's an aching pain, his desire, no his need for more. He craves it, causing his entire body to shiver. The yearning is a steady throb through his veins, lighting all of his nerves on fire. His and mind and body both cry the same plea: "more".

Slowly, Jim tries to sit up, wanting to open his eyes. But his arms tremble with the effort, not even able to lift himself an inch off of the soft surface. A scared moan whines in his throat, the feeling of being trapped overwhelming him.

The blond attempts to open his eyes, but he can't seem to get them to cooperate, his eyelids too tired to function.

Suddenly, a burning sensation rises from his gut, traveling up his throat, causing Jim to sputter and gag on his vomit. Jim grips the surface beneath, trying to pull himself onto his side to throw up, but he can't even do that.

Panic surges through him, the need to breathe becoming stronger with each passing heartbeat, causing a pain to rise in his chest.

So this is how Jim Kirk dies, choking on his own goddamn vomit. Pathetic

"Damn it Jim, I left you on your side for a reason!"

Hands grab him and yank him onto his right side and instantly the liquid leaves his mouth and he gasps for breath, oxygen filling his needy lungs.

"There ya go. Easy now."

Wheezy breaths escape him, and he can feel the panic and anxiety in his chest fade away.

"Sh-shit." Jim stutters, voice raspy and short.

The hands massage his skull, lulling him into a state of calm, "Yeah shit Jim, you're lucky I put you in the spare bed and not my own. I'd be pissed if you puked on my bed sheets."

"Bones…?"

"Yeah kid?"

The bed dips, the southerner's presence now known, sitting beside Jim's hip.

"I-I need." Jim grits out, blindly reaching out for Bones' hand, and it's met firmly, "No Jim."

"But-"

"I said no Jim."

Jim whines, attempting to kick Bones from the bed. Why the hell would Bones deprive him of this? Does the idiot know how much this hurts? Bones has no idea what kind of torture this is, he can't be serious.

"Bones-for the love of g-god!" He growls, continuing to act out, but Bones easily pins him down onto the bed, keeping him there, "Hey-hey Jim, it's just the withdrawals talking. Calm down Jimbo."

"I said I want more!" Jim bucks against the hands holding him down.

"Jim-Jim!" Bones yells grabbing his face, steadying him instantly.

The coldness of Bones' calloused hands brings his anxiety down immediately, and he goes limp beneath the southerner.

"Calm down kid. I know it hurts-no one said this was gonna be easy. Just take a breath and open your eyes for me kid." Bones instructs him and Jim groans, "I c-can't."

"Yes, you can, just calm yourself."

Jim nods, focusing his mind on opening his eyes, and slowly but surely, his eyes peel open, squinting hazily up at Bones.

The southerner smiles, "See? Now, deep breath, you're gonna be fine."

The blond does as he's told, inhaling and exhaling shakily, earning a grin from Bones.

"Now, do you wanna try to eat something? Francis said you haven't eaten in days."

Just the mention of food makes his stomach churn, the nausea rising once more. Almost desperately he shakes his head. Bones sighs, seeming disappointed.

"Alright, well let's get you sitting up. You seem awfully weak for someone who's just going through withdrawals." Bones grumbles, helping him sit up against the backboard.

Jim frowns, but nonetheless feels drained the moment he's upright. Bones makes himself at home right beside him. The blond stares out into nothingness. It's all pathetic and stupid. Here they are, thrown back together, Bones once more taking care of him, the familiar smell of vomit stained sheets filling their nostrils, and Jim practically shitting himself again.

Oh how the world repeats itself.

Why the hell is Bones even here? Shouldn't he just kick Jim out the nearest window after all this shit? Doesn't the southerner hate his guts? Isn't there just too much tension between them? After Hermione, him getting beat up, the trial. Just everything.

Even that damn conversation in the hospital, where Bones left him to cry. Because he couldn't swallow his damn pride and confide into Bones.

"Bones…" Jim starts, drawing his knees up to hug them close to his chest. Bones snaps from his daze, glancing over at him, "Yeah?"

"Just why…"

Bones shifts uncomfortably beside him, sighing, "Can't we talk about this when you're emotionally stable?"

Jim gives him a glare.

"Jim, just like two minutes ago you thought you couldn't open your damn eyes." Bones retorts, not meeting his gaze.

Jim makes a whining noise in the back of his throat, "C'mon Bones, why wait?"

"Because, you're half starved, shaking with fever, puking buckets, and craving that damn drug. You're in no condition to have a stressful conversation." Bones supplies, crossing his arms with that incredulous look on his face.

The blond purses his lips childishly, "But Bones!"

"Just get some rest, like I said, we'll talk about this when you're feeling better. How about we just focus on getting you through this. The real shit storm will be here soon."

He shivers involuntarily; he can't imagine this getting worse than it already is.

Damn, he's never going to get addicted to this shit again. Withdrawals are something he doesn't want to ever experience again after this.

"I'll be out there if you need me." Bones announces, sliding from the bed, but Jim reaches out and grabs his sleeve, "Stay?"

A smirk climbs onto Bones lips, "Alright, but I'm gonna clean up the mess you left."

Jim nods drowsily and watches Bones leave. He tries to stay awake until Bones comes back, but he's only vaguely aware of the southerner changing the blankets and scraping up the floor. Then there's a wash of warmth when Bones settles back onto the bed beside him, and by then, Jim's slumped over onto the pillow, eyes only cracked open.

"Just sleep kid." Bones whispers softly, stroking his hair back, causing Jim to finally shut his eyes and welcome the blackness.

When he awakes, an odd tingling sensation is running through his body. But as he wakes further, the sensation begins to burn, making his veins thump against his skin and his insides to churn and twist around his bones. The pain becomes one pulsing desire for the drug, his thirst and hunger is only for heroin, to have more.

Damn, Bones was right, the withdrawals do get worse.

Quivering, Jim curls into himself, huddling further into the blanket placed neatly over him. He can feel the damp mattress beneath him, and the chafing from sweat slick skin against sheets.

All he can think about is heroin. Breathing it in, the fiery rush up his nostrils and the buzzing warmth that floods through his body. The calm and sweet bliss of not feeling. Having his thoughts finally roam freely and his body simply going through the motions of time and space. He craves the feeling, he wants it back, he needs it.

His hands grasp the fabric tightly and he forces a breath into his shriveling lungs. The world seems to collapse around him and his eyes won't open again, they're clamped shut, afraid of what they might see. Then his knees draw up to his chest in attempt to ease his nauseas stomach, to bring a constant pressure into his gut to keep the rolling feeling away.

Jim feels like he's on a merry-go-round, only hanging upside down. The insistent feeling of being in motion causing his mind to drift and only come to back heroin. He can't control it and he can't get his mind off of it.

If he had more he wouldn't be feeling like this. Feeling like he's stuck and tied down with his world crumbling around him.

He shivers and a whimper blows softly through his chapped lips. He can feel his ribs begin to pinch in, caving in around his lungs and restricting his breath to a gasping wheeze.

It would be better if he was just dead. He shouldn't have come. He should've just overdosed like he planned. He can just imagine Francis finally walking into his room to find his cold lifeless body, nails and lips an ashy blue, limbs and chest motionless with his body collapsed on top of the desk, eyes unseeing. Surely his death would've been preferable?

"God you're such a moron."

Jim noticeably jumps, his breath hitching in his throat.

"You were mumbling Jim-and damn it, I'm glad you came Jim. I don't want you dead. Don't talk like that kid."

A body shifts against his and its then Jim realizes he's been holding onto Bones' shirt, his head resting on his chest. A hand then incases his head, petting gently.

"M's'rry' ones'." Jim mutters drowsily.

Bones' sigh rattles in his ear, "Just, hang in there kid alright?"

Jim nods determinedly into his chest.

"That's good, because damn it, we're definitely having that talk after this."

He manages a small smile, eyes squeezing shut.

"Get some sleep Jim."

Exhaustion consumes him.

When he wakes up, he's alone on the bed, shaking violently. His craving has become a gaping hole. He feels utterly empty, a void in his heart.

Slowly, his eyes open, taking in the dark room about, but guessing from the bright sunlight peeking through the window's blinds, he guesses it's somewhere around noon. He turns his head too fast, and he feels the throb of a headache pound against the forefront of his skull, causing him to groan and massage his temples. Greedily he takes the glass of water on the nightstand, his dry throat relishing in the cold liquid, but his stomach twists with the consumption.

Sighing, the water doesn't seem to fill him, he's becoming restless and tired of wanting and yearning for something he can no longer have. It physically pains him not to have any.

Jim moans, bringing his knees to his chest while he sits and begins to gently rock himself, desperately trying to get his mind off of it. His hands start to rub his biceps, his whole body sticky with sweat.

The headache doesn't stop banging, and his rocking continues. His breathing shortens and he can see the room spin away, so he puts his head between his knees, hoping to anchor himself.

The door creaks open, darn old-fashioned door, making Jim startle on the bed. Bones appears, visibly swallowing, eyes taking in the sight of Jim. Damn, he must not look too good.

"Jim…?" Bones voice is light, just above a whisper and full of such concern it makes Jim nearly tremble, "I'm okay." He says quietly and mentally face-palms before clearing his throat to pipe up, "I drank the water."

Bones nods knowingly, "Good…good."

Jim frowns, something's wrong, "Bones, what's…is something going on?"

The southerner shakes his head, "No, sorry-umm. It's been a long day."

Jim just nods, watching Bones' movements. The man hesitantly enters the room, shutting the door smoothly behind him. Bones' eyes then scan through the room, avoiding Jim's penetrating gaze. There's something on his mind.

"Bones…" Jim prompts, forcing his limbs to stop quivering by bringing the blanket up towards his chest and holding it there tightly, Bones finally glances up and sighs, "Was it you?"

"Huh?" Jim splutters, confused.

"That night-I was pretty damn drunk and I thought…I thought I saw you."

Jim narrows his eyes at him. What the hell is Bones blabbing about?

"I was standing on the damned hill and I thought for a moment I saw someone staring at me, but I guess it wasn't you then." Bones continues, eyes averting to the floor.

Jim smiles and snorts a laugh, "That was me Bones."

Bones doesn't laugh though, he stares deeply into Jim's eyes and he shivers, but not because of the withdrawals, "Bones…"

"Were you high that night?"

"Bones please-"

"The night you tried to get into my room and I called you drunk?-Were you high that night? The night I shoved you to the floor?" Bones asks desperately and Jim swallows, meeting the southerner's gaze.

Jim's voice quiets and he lowers his head shamefully as he whispers, "Bones don't do this to yourself."

Bones' gaze turns into a glare as he stands leaning against the wall by the door, "Goddamn it Jim, answer the question!"

"Why? So you can beat yourself up about it? Bones I had no right showing up at your door like that! I shouldn't have been there and you can't blame yourself for something that wasn't your fault!" Jim snaps defensively and Bones takes a step forward, "Shut up! You goddamn brat! I should've known you were high! I knew you were acting strange!"

Bones takes a collective breath, composing himself, "I should've come to you sooner, I should've checked in on you. I knew something was up. I didn't see you at classes or in the cafeteria anymore. People were talking Jim-and I didn't even bother comming you. God I'm such an asshole." The southerner rubs his face wearily, eyes squeezed shut.

Slowly, Jim slides his feet to the ground, "Bones…damn it. It wasn't supposed to be like this. I didn't mean for it to happen like this. I was way over my head-I just. I wanted to feel like a person-I wanted to just feel something-with Hermione I felt useless and empty. I just thought…I thought that this would make me feel alive." Jim comes beside Bones, pulling his hands from his face.

Bones' eyes search him, "Jim, what are you talking about?"

"The fight Bones. That goddamn fight that started everything. I thought if Francis beat me up, that I'd feel something again. I was tired Bones, I…That month of no fighting made me feel worthless and I thought if I could just have the feeling of being beat up again, that it'd make me feel better-and then I felt guilty for wasting my time with Hermione instead of spending time with you when you needed me because of your daughter, Joanna…"

"Jim," Bones breathes heavily, "you're blaming yourself for not being there for me?"

"Bones you threw a beer bottle at my head! I obviously did something wrong!" Jim exasperates, shaking on his feet.

"Jim that was one time. Yeah I was mad but I didn't want to make you feel so guilty that you thought that you had to be beaten up by Francis…"

Ocean meets Earth.

"Kid," Bones grasps his shoulders, "I'm sorry for making you feel that way. I'm sorry that I yelled at you in the hospital and I'm sorry that I ever said you weren't good enough…"

Jim tries to stay strong but a strangled noise escapes his throat and he can feel Bones' grip tightening.

"Listen to me kid. You deserve so much more than you think. You don't deserve to be beaten up, and you don't deserve to be used by someone else like Hermione did to you."

"But Bones, I yelled at you and I pushed you away-I said I'd be good but I wasn't! I treated you like shit Bones." Jim replies softly, his vision blurring with welling tears.

"Yeah? And I treated you like shit too." Bones chuckles nervously, "I think we both owe each other an apology-because damn it, we were quite a duo."

Jim nods, a small smile creeping on his lips, "Yeah, we were."

The hands adjust their grip on his shoulders and Jim looks up at Bones.

"Jim, I'm sorry for everything I've said and everything I did to you, I was unfair and I should've talked to you at the hospital after our argument, and not run away from it. I'm sorry that I seemed unapproachable, I should've known you were hurting…I guess I just couldn't swallow my own damn pride to talk to you sooner."

"Bones-"

Bones raises a hand to silence him.

"Jim, I don't want you to feel like that anymore-I don't want you to feel like you need to be abused to feel alive-and I don't want you to feel like you can't talk to me about anything. Jim, I'm not trying to figure you out or something, you're not some puzzle-you're a human being-actually, you're my favorite human Jim and I want to be your favorite human too."

A sob emits from his throat and Jim wipes away the tears quickly, a stupid broken grin plastered on his face, "Damn it Bones-I'm sorry too, I should've been more open and understanding. I shouldn't have pushed you away like I did-I guess I just got scared and paranoid. I thought you just wanted to know me because I'm George Kirk's son, I thought you were just like any other of those curious bastards-but you're not and I realize that now…Bones I'm sorry and I promise I'll be more open-I'll actually answer your questions, I'll try my best."

He takes a settling breath, "I'll be good, I promise."

Bones nods, tears glistening in his own eyes.

"And damn it Bones of course you're my favorite human."

"Come here you little shithead."

Bones wraps him into an embrace.

Warmth floods through Jim's body and he stops shivering. The calm settles his nerves and he feels like he can finally breathe, like he'd been holding his breath for these past several weeks, so he breathes in Bones' scent, relishing in it.

He has his arms around Bones' waist, head buried into his chest with Bones' arms about his neck, chin resting in his blond hair.

Damn, he's going to keep his promise this time, because he can't screw this up again. He'll have to come clean about everything if he wants to keep Bones. He can't lose this man, not again, and not ever, he's not sure if he'll be able to live without him.

He promised that he'd be good and he's damn determined to actually do it this time.

Author's Note: Finally, they've apologized! Ugh it's so hard writing them apart and I hate it because they have such great chemistry together. I'm excited to write them as friends again so I can make them get into more trouble, because what else would I be making them do? I hope you've enjoyed it thus far and stick around for the long haul because I'm not even close to being halfway there. They have three years in the academy and I'm not even halfway through their first year…so yeah there's a lot more to come and a lot more to be planned. If you have any questions or suggestions feel free to ask and tell me. Thanks for everything guys! Live Long and Prosper.