For Author's Note and Disclaimer, see chapter 1

Chapter 33

Twice more Jim woke because of the faint distressed noises and movement from beside him. Both times he could tell his friend was running a fever but not how bad it was or really if he should wake him or just let him rest. He coughed some in his sleep but quieted down after the fit and Jim decided to let him be, but demand he examined himself in the morning. What decided him was the knowledge that once the doctor woke up he wasn't very likely to take any rest if he needed it. So better to let him get whatever rest he could until then.

It did however mean that he was not sleeping himself when morning approached and Bones got even more restless, coughing again, a small moan escaping him as his hand came to his chest.

He did not exactly look restive with a fever flush to the cheeks and a fine sheen of sweat covering his forehead and neck. Finally, with a last wet sounding cough his friend opened his eyes and Jim reached out a hand to his arm. "Hey," he started slowly, meaning to ask him how he was feeling.

With a startled cry that took Jim completely by surprise Bones threw himself back away from him, tumbling out of bed and crashing to the floor in a tangle of blankets.

"Bones?" Jim hurried forward to scramble out of bed, wanting to make sure he was okay. "What happened? Are you okay?" Out of the corner of his eye he saw Spock moving closer.

"Dagnabbit, I thought you were gonna beat up on me again!" McCoy rasped, pushing himself up. "You've only done gone an' done it every blasted morning!"

"I was already awake," he crouched beside him. "In fact, I couldn't really sleep. Wasn't sure how you were doing, but it didn't seem all that good."

"Yeah, what the devil do you expect?" scowling at him McCoy started to push himself up to sit on the edge of the bed. The scowl would have been a lot more intimidating if Jim hadn't been used to it, or if he hadn't broken out coughing again.

"You really don't sound too well, maybe I should call Chapel?" Jim mused. He tried to check his forehead for fever again and found him pulling away. "That's how my mom always did it," he mused to explain himself.

"Yeah well, it wasn't how my mama did it, and thank heavens for that," McCoy snorted. "Hand me the triccorder will ya? I can do a better job m'self." The southern drawl was thicker even if his voice was horse and Jim handed him the requested piece of equipment.

"I guess it was always your dad, huh? Since he was a doctor."

"If it was either of them, then yeah," McCoy ran the scanner over himself, checking the readings with a frown that made Jim frown himself as he tried to interpret it. He noticed Spock watching them, but his frown was more like his normal expression and not really adapted to the current situation yet. That would likely be some form of raised eyebrow in a minute. "Can you hand me the hypo?" he asked looking up.

"Doctor," Spock took the pouch from the table and handed it to him, raising an eyebrow as McCoy took it with a cough and Jim grinned. He was right.

"Thanks," voice still hoarse McCoy selected the cartridges he wanted to inject himself.

"So, any worse?" Jim pressed. "You look worse."

"Worse compared to yesterday, medicine hasn't taken full effect yet," McCoy simply shrugged. "Expect it to take a day or two. Usually does."

"Alright, then you'd better stay where you are, at least for now," Jim held up a hand as he started to object. "If Scotty manages as he thinks today we'll have full life support back, that means real food and heat and there won't be a need for those injections anymore, correct?"

"Yes," McCoy looked unhappy about admitting to it.

"So, you can stay in bed, read or do whatever you want, and if they desperately need you they can call you, same as yesterday, but you'll be resting and healing faster, correct?"

"Pneumonia is not something you catch from another person and I am perfectly capable of performing my duty," McCoy flared, irate.

"And you'll be even more capable of performing them later if you allow yourself a day to rest and heal up," Jim decided. "I'll even let you use the computer if you want to, but stay here where it's quiet and almost warm and rest, okay?" he sighed as he could tell he was not really winning the argument. "Alright, look at it this way, if we call Nurse Chapel up here, she's likely gonna order you completely off duty for at least two days, wouldn't she?"

"Probably," McCoy admitted grudgingly. "Blast it, she likes being able to boss me around."

"So one day unofficially really is better than having it official and two days or more," Jim cajoled. Technically as the captain he could have made it an order, but then Bones would really have been fighting him on it. Trying to reason with him sometimes worked. After all, Bones wasn't going out of his way to be difficult, he just found it as hard as Jim to step back and let someone else take over for him.

"Fine," McCoy sighed, clearly not happy about it at all. "But I reserve the right to determine if I'm better later," as hoarse as he sounded Jim rather doubted this would happen. He also figured that Bones would be honest enough about it he could agree to the terms, more or less.

"You feel that much better I might just agree, but I want to have a say in the matter," he decided. "And before you argue, you'd insist on the same, and you know it Bones."

"Difference, I'm a doctor," he grumbled as he settled himself down again.

"So you really ought to know better," Jim found himself grinning. There was something about winning an argument where you tried to make your friend take care of himself that really got you in a good mood. "What do you say about some breakfast? Me and Spock can have it brought here."

"Not really hungry, but probably should," he sighed. "Fine." If he didn't agree to eat the captain would just start throwing his weight around again, bossy was what the man was at times. He seemed to enjoy it to, as if ordering people around was his favorite thing in the world, which might have something to do with why he was the captain on the ship after all.

"Coffee, small bowl of stew," Jim grinned as he stepped over to the intercom. "Should be good for you I imagine."

"Probably," he grudgingly admitted as he looked at his dwindling supply of wearable clothes. One pair of uniform pants and a pair of socks was really all he had. It was too cold just about everywhere on the ship for him to wear nothing but that. Sighing he gave the garments an annoyed scowl.

"Give me a second," Jim had used the com to ask for the food and now moved to his dresser. Pulling out one black under shirt and one of his command tunics. He rather preferred the green wraparound version that never shrunk the same way around the waist as the standard command gold did. Which meant he had a couple to spare. "Here," he tossed them onto the bed. "And when the ship's functioning normally again, we're putting in a requisition for a couple of new uniforms for you," he added with a grin to show it was not critique. "You could probably use a couple more spares."

"I'm actually beginning to think so myself," McCoy admitted. "Not that I don't appreciate this, but every time I walk past a mirror and see the colour I near get a heart attack…" Pulling on the pants and the undershirt he went to the bathroom to shave. Not liking how winded it made him. Far from full lung capacity and while he hated to admit it he wouldn't be much good until the treatment kicked in full. Another four or five days and he'd be good enough, but at the moment he didn't have the stamina. At least he would be able to work on the computer, it was a far cry from having the lab equipment at hand. Either the small one in sickbay or one of the larger ones that was a form of home away from home. Sickbay being akin to what he saw as home aboard the ship. It was where he was the most comfortable and he hated being forced away from there. He truly trusted Chapel to handle most of the things, and the junior doctors under him weren't bad, just junior doctors with not enough experience. A few bright eyed young men who dreamed of fame and glory on the starship. It was only natural that they sought their career but it was hard sometimes to get them the experience they needed when they did not have it. One could not allow them to learn by trail and error on patients. Unless he could supervise he couldn't really allow them to learn.

Sometimes he wondered if the academy sent them out that inexperienced on purpose, trying to get at him, but it didn't make sense. Problem was more akin to none of them having any actual experience, or even a full medical degree when they went to join starfleet.

Finishing and deciding against packing up his razor right then, because if he did everything would fall apart and he'd be stuck where he was for another night he went back into the main cabin.

Apparently the breakfast had just arrived because there was a bowl on the table with the coffee and the nutrient bars. He felt a little guilty about eating the stew when his friends had the dry tasteless bars but he wasn't sure if he would really manage one. Sitting down at the table he simply nodded when Jim pushed the bowl in front of him. Between the pneumonia and the drugs to counter it he didn't really have much of an appetite and that too would likely stay that way for a while.

On the other hand, if he did not eat it he had a feeling Jim might deny him access to his computer, and with no lab, no books and no computer he would be going out of his mind and they both knew it.

"I'll let you know how it goes with the systems today," Jim decided as he tried to swallow his nutrient bar with the aid of some powerful coffee. "But Scotty sounded hopeful, really hopeful, we just might be eating something real if not for lunch so for dinner."

"Right now I could care less about the food if I could only get up to the lab," he tried to stifle another cough but wasn't fully able to.

"And you complain about me never taking it easy enough," Jim shook his head. "You know, sometimes you're a bit of a hypocrite Bones."

"I'm a doctor," scowling at the captain he struggled to choke down the last of the stew.

"So you really should know about rest and recuperating," Jim grinned cheerfully. "Seriously Bones, I know how you feel, just don't overdo it. You'll be able to do a lot more faster and better if you let yourself heal first."

"Oh yeah?" he fixed him with a firm look. "Who's sounding like a hypocrite now?"

Chuckling Jim patted his shoulder as he stood. "I'll give you that one, we'll come back here for lunch if we can, let you know how things are going."

"Sure," shifting to the chair behind the computer he turned it on and brought up his work from the night before. Engrossed in it again even before the door had closed behind Jim and Spock.

TBC

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