For Author's note and Disclaimer, see chapter 1

Chapter 27

By the time he managed to get back to their shared cabin McCoy was exhausted, bone weary and utterly exhausted to the point where merely walking to the cabin seemed something of an impossible task. He should have known better than to send away his nurse, he should have known that it would just invite further aggravation.

While he was still busy putting things away the next few crewmembers came in, and the ones who had to wait grumbled loudly about the cold temperature in sickbay. It did not seem to be aimed directly at him, but it was still annoying to listen to as he tried to treat them. As a result he found his own frustration growing as he struggled to treat them all fairly and effectively. He found himself speaking a little more sharply than he meant to one or two of them when they fidgeted.

Finally he was done and left one of the junior nurses to man the fort. She would not be able to handle very much at all if anything came in, but at least she would be able to alert him if he was needed.

Entering Jim's quarters he gave a frown as the captain stood up and left the game of chess he was playing with Spock as soon as he came in.

"Sit down Bones, you look beat," Jim stated in passing and McCoy blinked as he watched him go. Some ship emergency he had to deal with? He did not know and he was half too tired to care. Taking the vacated seat he sank down in it with a sigh of relief.

"We did expect you back three point twenty seven hours ago," Spock raised an eyebrow as the doctor stretched out in the seat.

"Yeah, well, not everything on this blasted ship runs on a schedule," he muttered. "I've had to deal with more ingrates than I care for and I don't want a lecture about it."

"I would not propose to lecture you," Spock declared. "I am merely stating the facts."

"Do me a favour, don't," he managed to muster up a half glare. He did not want to have to listen to anything that sounded like critique of any kind. He wanted to dig out the bottle he knew Kirk still had hid somewhere and pour himself a stiff drink to take the edge of the world. It was getting to him and he knew it. Stretching out his feet in front of him seemed to be all he could do at the moment. Too tired to even pull off the boots he contemplated just throwing himself on the bed and going to sleep. He might have, if it had not been so blasted far away. Who the heck was it that put a bed at the other end of the cabin? It wasn't fair was what it was.

At least Spock seemed to take the hint, if a Vulcan ever did or if he was just naturally quiet about it all. Whatever the reason the man said nothing as he studied the chess board in front of him intently and Bones allowed his eyes to fall halfway close.

He opened them full again when the door hissed open and Kirk came in, a bowl in hand and a smile on his face as if he was incredibly pleased with himself.

"Medical emergency or not, you're not leaving until you've eaten," the captain declared. "We had them save yours before and heat it up now."

"Thanks, I suppose," he would have been more enthusiastic if not for the amount of energy one needed to even eat. Firstly he would have to actually sit up instead of slouch, then there was the whole deal about lifting the spoon and right now that was just more than he wanted to deal with.

Jim gave him a concerned look at that and he raised a hand in a dismissive gesture. "Never mind, just tired Jim. Thanks, really," he forced himself to sit up, sighing as his back protested after long hours of tensing up with cold. "Been a long day."

"I gather," he noted. "Are you okay?"

"Jest fine," Bones drawled as he leaned over the bowl. It sounded like the tired drawl he was unaware of Jim noted, but it was hard to be sure.

After the first few spoonfuls Bones actually found he had enough energy to finish it. Leaning back again and feeling full for the first time in an uncertain period of aggravating activities. "Grandpa always said the knack to it was being an opportunistic eater, can't do that, can't do the job," he mused. "He sure was to at that, Papa, not so much, but I never knew if he just didn't have the knack or if it was 'cause of my Mama's cooking." Jim had gone to the trouble to make sure he was fed, the least he could do was to show he appreciated it. Funny, but allowing just a small comment about his grandparents seemed to do it for Jim.

"I believe your Grandpa had a point," the Captain now mused. "But I think you sometimes take it to the extremes…"

"Possibly, but on this crazy ship you pretty much have to," Bones mused.

"Alright, I'll give you that one," Jim nodded. He had to admit his friend had a point. Not many other starships had gone through what they had, not many others could understand what it was they went through. "We should be done here in a minute, if you want to go to bed."

"I will, whether you're finished with that or not," pulling off the borrowed boots he put them beside the bed, removing his socks. Placing them beside his clothes he figured they would probably soon be the only none-borrowed garment he had on. As grateful as he was for his nurse lending him the use of one of her sweaters it was a little strange at times and he hoped it didn't lose its shape. Her sweater was too loose around the chest, Jim's tunic around the waist and anything at all was better than being cold but if he had ruined the sweater for her he would be sure to get her a new one whenever next opportunity came. The stew might have been good, but he was still exhausted and still felt the cold. The cabin was on the slightly chilly side if nowhere near as bad as sickbay and he was generally glad for the crowded space in that it added heat.

Two blankets made it bearable though he figured he was tired enough to sleep anyway, but listening to the two of them talk quietly as they moved the chess pieces on the board, the lights dimmed comfortable in the main part of the cabin and even further in the sleeping alcove was about as comfortable as one could get on a broken ship.

"And for that matter," he mumbled sleepily. "If you go throwing your fists about you again in the morning, be aware I will insist on giving you the vaccine for the Delanian sandfly rash, and I will not even feel guilty for it at all."

"I will, keep that in mind," Jim allowed, remembering the rash that most everyone ever vaccinated with it got. "I'll do my best Bones, I promise I will."

"Promises, promises," he settled himself a little more comfortable on his back. "Haven't done one whit of good so far and I doubt it will be now, but I won't stand for it again, just so you know."

"I'll keep it in mind Bones," Jim promised as he moved his next piece, this time he was doing better in the game. He was more focused, felt a little bit better about things as they were slowly getting back to where he felt things were under his control again.

He and Spock finished their game and Bones barely stirred at all when he climbed into bed beside him. At least he didn't seem to have any nightmares, but by now Jim was beginning to doubt he would ever know for sure. At least he wasn't biting down on his hand, but if there was anything else he didn't know, and he did not know how to tell either. Still and quiet was the best he could hope for at the moment and at least that was the way it looked.

Thinking maybe he would be able to control his reflexes he tucked his hands in under his thighs as he settled down to sleep. Hopefully that would be enough, not that he thought Bones would carry out his threat. He might be annoyed enough to want to, but he would never abuse his medical privilege and he would never do anything that might risk the health of any of the crew in any way. Inflicting an annoying rash on the captain as a means of personal revenge would certainly fall in that category so he knew he was safe. He just felt sorry for his friend and wanted to avoid it all if he could.

If it worked was unclear as the alarm that came in the middle of the night had McCoy out of bed even before Jim could stir himself. Medical alarm, someone needing treatment and the Doctor had his uniform pants and the borrowed tunic on before Jim was even sitting up. Ignoring the socks and pulling on the boots that were too large without them because it was the fastest way.

"What's wrong?" Jim frowned, throwing the cover back.

"Scotty alerted an injury in engineering, I'll know more when I get there," McCoy started.

"Do you need help?" he sat up on the edge of the bed, alert himself.

"If I do, it'll be from a nurse or a medical officer and not you," McCoy stated. "So quit yapping and let me at my job."

"Alright, if you should need more hands, let me know," Jim nodded as Bones headed out the door. He wasn't surprised over how fast the man reacted, any attack on his ship had him reacting just as quick. It was the nature of men like them to be fully awake and alert in just a second when you had to. Bones had trained himself to wake to that very alarm, it was what got to him like nothing else on the ship could. Someone injured, someone sick, that was what McCoy was always on alert for and he knew what to do about it. There was no reason to be concerned about it.

McCoy wasted no time in getting to engineering, even if the route there was different now. So many sections of the ship had no life support, no heat. Like the labs they were open for access for those who needed it, but they were virtually unable to support life.

When he got to engineering he was met by a calm and collected if visibly worried chief engineer. "Couple of the lads took a spill so they did," he stated. "I didnae know how serious t'was, but I wanted to be safe rather than sorry."

"I'll have a look at them," he had picked up a basic medkit on his way, hoping he would be able to treat whatever it was on the spot rather than having to cart them all around the ship. It would take longer and be more uncomfortable for everyone if he had to do that. Diagnosing a mild concussion and administering a painkiller for it was not too hard, making sure the man did no further damage to himself throwing up from the nausea the concussion caused took a little longer, and left him minus uniform tunic.

A hypo injection with medication took care of the nausea and ensured no one else suffered for it. "You're good for the night," he patted the man on the shoulder. "But I want to see you tomorrow, and Scotty, wake him up in four hours make sure he's lucid and no worse off."

"Ah'll do that doctor," the chief engineer nodded, giving his man a fond look.

None of the rest was serious, twisted knee, sprained wrist, dislocated shoulder. All things he could take care of on the spot even if they might have been a mite more comfortable somewhere else. Moving them wouldn't improve anything as it were. The cold in sickbay would have them more uncomfortable and their fellow engineers were more than capable of looking out for them for the night.

Listening to the last hiss of the hypo he removed the vial and placed it carefully in his case. "Alright, that should do it for the night," he mused. "I'll come back early tomorrow morning, have a look at them but I don't think it's going to be any trouble." Simple injuries even if it had taken some time and he was even more exhausted now than he had been before. The call had come after he had barely got more than an hour of sleep, that was four hours since.

"Thank ye Doctor," Scotty gave him a heartfelt smile, but then the man took very careful responsibility for his men. "Ah'm real grateful for ye coming out this time o' the night so I am. Lads were just trying to finish up a bit, didnae wanna knock it off for the day before they were done. We're all real grateful for ya coming this way, I ken ya had rather been left to sleep."

"Don't worry about it Scotty," he tried to stifle a yawn, picking up the discarded tunic by a clean spot on the hem. "I'm just an old country doctor doing my job."

"If ye say so Doctor," Scotty winked at him, chuckling as if it was a joke between the two of them.

"I am old, and feeling it, and now I'm heading back to bed where any man with a lick of sense would be at this hour."

"Aye, ye do that doctor, and we do thank ye," Scotty noted. Putting a hand on his shoulder as he turned to leave engineering.

Muttering something under his breath he did not really care if Scotty understood him or not. He was exhausted, truly exhausted and allowed the too big boots to make their way on autopilot. It was tiring enough to make sure he didn't trip over them. With double socks they were fine, a little loose but not a problem at all. Without any socks at all they were rattling and his toes were numb with the chill of the corridor. When he had to leave on a medical matter though he wouldn't take the time to search out his own from the corner. He would have gone barefoot if he had to, and that was just what the job dictated.

There was a chill in the air and he rubbed his free hand over his arm as the door hissed open in front of him. Glancing down at his bare chest and arms, the hair standing out in goosebumps and the soiled tunic. The captain would not be very happy about that, but it wasn't as if the man didn't rip enough of those things himself. He was a menace to them so he was. One more wouldn't make a difference, and in their current situation it was better to just dispose of it than try to have it properly clean.

He'd just make sure it was disposed of properly and then he would go to sleep. For once he would actually be happy that they were so crowded. His toes were completely numb, so was his fingers from the cold. He felt more and more tired by the minute and he didn't care if the Captain hit him again as long as he got a warm place to sleep first.

It would be warmer he mused as his numb shoulder bumped against the cold wall. It would be warm in the cabin and the blankets in the bed would still be warm. He absently rubbed a numb hand over his sore knee, frowning confused at the empty blue tinged fingertips. Where was the dang blasted tunic? Not fit for wearing anymore, but he couldn't go about leaving things everywhere.

The mere effort of turning his head to look around seemed nearly impossible, and as dark as it was anyway it wasn't as if he could see anything anyway. Scotty claimed they were getting back on top of things, one at a time, but it sure didn't look like it when they couldn't turn the blasted lights on. The ship had a designated night time when the lights were lowered in the corridors, but this was pitch black, just a faint bobbing light at the end of the corridor somewhere and he couldn't hear a thing. It was dark and cold and too quiet. Rubbing his hands over his arms again, or not, he wasn't sure if he even moved at all everything was so cold and hard. It was so dark he could barely see the floor and he was so tired he could no longer remain standing.

He would have thought about sitting down for a moment, but every thought was so sluggish he wasn't sure if he was even clear on that, it was a weird feeling buzzing in his head and he frowned as he braced his hand on the floor, he couldn't even feel it anymore. Could he be so tired he sat down without realizing it?

There was faint alarm of some kind in the back of his head as he struggled for breath and felt his chest tighten. He should sit down and catch his breath, try and warm up just a little before he made his way back. How would he though, there was no longer even a glimmer of a light at the end of the corridor, everything was black. Everything was quiet and he could no longer feel his body at all. Not the toes on his feet or even the hand on his thigh, it was so cold and so black, and there was nothing at all anymore as the world faded out into a black vastness.

TBC

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