The City on the Edge of Forever

As McCoy bent down beside the body of Edith Keller he already knew that there was nothing he could do for her. He didn't have any equipment on him but he didn't need a tricorder to tell that she was dead. Medical science hadn't yet advanced to such a stage that a man could be completely replaced by a machine - thankfully - and even with all of the technology he was surrounded with in the sickbay aboard the Enterprise McCoy still relied upon his instincts and good old fashioned doctoring. He suspected that there was a lot more to Jim and Spock's story and their association with Edith Keller - and there was something about the way Spock had told him that Jim knew what he had done by holding him back from saving her, that made him suspect that a large part of this involved matters of the Captain's heart. There was a small crowd beginning to gather around them, and now that he had reassured himself that there was nothing he could do for the young woman he realised that they were going to have to make a hasty retreat to avoid any awkward questions. The young woman had been kind and she hadn't engaged her curiosity over McCoy's strange clothing or his lack of knowledge of the era all three now found themselves strangers within, but he suspected that other people wouldn't be quite so understanding.

"Doctor?" He heard Spocks voice behind him as he got stiffly to his feet, and turned to see the Vulcan standing over Jim - who hadn't moved from his position against the missionary wall, apart from the fact that he was now doubled over and vomiting onto the pavement.

"Jim!" He said as he made his way over to his two friends. As he approached he noticed the bright red shadows around the Captain's eyes and the tears glistening against his alabaster cheeks - his complexion had paled significantly and McCoy noticed how deathly white he had become. Some of this was probably caused by the sudden bout of nausea, but he also looked to be going into a state of shock.

"Doctor, we need to get off this street." Spock told him, looking around at the growing crowd. They didnt appear to be the main attraction at the moment, but he knew that wouldn't last long once the authorities arrived, and they would want to question them about what had happened.
"We need to get Jim somewhere inside and warm." McCoy observed, wrapping an arm around him, and Spock immediately took the Captain by an arm to steady him, as he started to shake. There was a bitter chill in the evening air, and McCoy noticed that Jim's hands too were starting to turn white with the cold. He asked Spock for his coat to add an extra layer to try and keep Jim warm.

"We've been renting an apartment nearby Doctor." Spock told him as he removed his coat and handed it to McCoy, who draped it around the shivering man's shoulders. Spock resumed his hold on the Captain's arm when it became apparent that he was going to need some help with walking. He was shaking rather badly, and appeared in no state to be able be make it back to the small room they had been renting under his own steam. The Vulcan doubted in his current condition he would even remember the way. "Just around the corner, in Miss Kellers own complex. Its the nearest place, besides the mission itself." He told him.

McCoy looked at Jim, the man still hadn't spoken and he wasn't sure that was such a good idea. Somewhere more neutral would have been more ideal, where McCoy could examine him without anything around to remind Jim of his trauma, but the man's physical need was greater than his emotional one right now.

McCoy needed to stabilise him long enough to enable them to get back through the portal, and right now without his tricorder and in the absence of a hypospray, that meant Jim required warmth, and rest. He could examine and treat him better once they got back aboard the Enterprise.

"How do you feel now Jim?" He asked him, as the man tried to straighten up. He cut a sorry figure as he had wiped away the tears from his cheeks but more now started to fall. McCoy thought he was starting to look a little queasy again. "Do you still feel sick?" He asked him, concerned, but Jim shook his head. He tried to look back, in the direction of where he knew Edith's broken body still to be - cold and crumpled on the concrete road - but McCoy shielded him, and thankfully the crowd prevented him from seeing her over the older man's shoulder.
"Come on Jim." He said kindly, his voice barely a whisper in his friend's ear, and tone gentle. "There's nothing you can do for her now. You don't want to see her like that."

He remembered the fond way Edith had referred to her "young man" and he knew that the kind young woman wouldn't have wanted him to see her like that either. Jim turned his pain filled eyes to look at McCoy, and nodded.

With one last sad look behind them McCoy then wrapped a supporting arm around his waist and allowed Spock to lead the way in the direction of the apartment. Between the two men they managed to keep Jim upright - just about - but his feet dragged in an uncoordinated fashion every few steps, and the doctor wasn't entirely convinced that he wasn't going to be sick again. He still looked very pale. Negotiating the narrow stairs up to the small room was difficult. The Captain tried, but seemed to lose the will to continue once they reached the half way point, and whilst he was confident that the cordrazine had now worked its way out of his system, McCoy hadn't yet regained enough physical strength to be much help in assisting him. It was at this point that Spock took over, gently gathering the Captain up into his arms and succeeding in hauling him up the rest of the way with what appeared to be very little effort. When they reached the top he took the key from the pocket of his coat, which was still draped precariously around Jim's shoulders, unlocked the door and dragged him inside. McCoy followed, watching as Spock then gently pushed the captain into the nearest chair, and instructed the older man to close the door behind them.

It was at that moment that the symptoms of the persisting nausea McCoy had observed - despite his friend's protests to the contrary - refused to go unacknowledged any longer, and Jim found himself once again in danger of losing control over his stomach. The doctor recognised the signs and realised what was going to happen, looking around helplessly for the nearest appropriate vessel. He thrust a small trash can under Jim's chin just in time as he vomited for a second time - although this time there was less for him to bring up and the episode appeared less violent in nature than the last. McCoy was worried, without a tricorder to examine him he had no way of knowing if the man's unsettled stomach was simply in response to the severe emotional trauma he had just suffered, or if it was the result of some kind of bug which needed immediate medical treatment.

It was quite out of character for the Captain's emotions to overwhelm him so completely - but he was only human, faced with the raw intensity of his grief. McCoy accepted that he had no idea what he and Spock had been through, and for that reason he had to assume for now that it was the shock. He waited patiently until Jim seemed to have recovered slightly, muttering reassuringly to him as he continued to dry heave into the can long after there was anything left in his stomach to bring up. Finally he started to notice some of the colour return to Jim's cheeks, and once he was confident that the sickness had again passed he removed the now soiled liner from inside the trash can and placed the vessel down on the floor beside him, in case it was to be needed again. He then disposed of its unpleasant contents.

It was obvious that Jim was exhausted, and he suspected that Spock hadn't had much in the way of sleep recently either. The very real possibility of malnutrition entered his mind, as he looked around the small room and saw no clear sign of how either man had been able to prepare food. Aboard the Enterprise all meals were nutritionally calibrated but here appropriate nutrition was entirely dependant on the efforts of the individual. He glanced around for a clock on the wall - wanting to check Jim's pulse. Without his tricorder he would have to do things the old fashioned way, and he was relieved when he noticed one, as looking around him there didn't seem to be much else in the small room besides a couple of beds and a table, which Spock seemed to have commandeered for what looked like a primitive - by the Enterprise's standards - homemade transmitter. Gently taking Jim by the hand he rolled his sleeve back and placed two fingers to his wrist. Bones had always been grateful that he had learnt to do things the old fashioned way, he had never liked the idea of being completely reliant on machines, and he was relieved when he found Jim's pulse to be rapid, but acceptable. He also seemed to be coming round from the semi catatonic state which had afflicted him.

"How do you feel Jim?" McCoy asked, leaning over him and placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. He could feel that the man was still shaking slightly, but considerably less so now that they were off the street and in some comparative warmth.

"Tired." He whispered - his voice barely more than a whisper. The tears were still trickling in a steady stream down his cheeks and dripping off his chin, but he hadn't yet given himself over to the full throws of his grief. McCoy suspected that when it finally did hit him, it would be hard and fast, and painful.

"You're exhausted Jim." He explained gently. "You need to sleep."

"We have time doctor." Spock told him. "I need to make sure that the memory circuit is dismantled correctly before we can leave here, we can't run the risk of any part of it falling into the wrong hands. I estimate it should take me a couple of hours."

"Come on Jim." McCoy said, taking him gently by the elbow, and he felt a wave of relief and concern in equal measure as the Captain allowed himself to be led. McCoy guided him over to one of the beds, and the man seemed to need no prompting to sit down. McCoy would have also liked to give him something warm and sweet to drink, but with no stove in the room to boil water for coffee sleep was the next best medicine. "Just lie down and relax for a bit." He instructed him.

As Jim lay down McCoy pulled a chair up to his bedside and sat down next to him, watching him closely. His heart went out to his friend - he knew what it felt like to find yourself unwell in a time period without the medical advancement of hyposprays - and at that moment Jim was indeed quite unwell. There was however still no known cure for a broken heart, in this century or any other.

"How is he doctor?" Spock asked him, getting up from the table. He picked up the can as he made his way over and quietly placed it down at the head of Jim's bed.

"He's in a bad way Spock." McCoy told him, realising, by the gentle rise and fall of the man's chest, that Jim had fallern asleep - it concerned him how little time it had taken him to give in to his body's need for rest. "I won't know how bad until we get him back to the ship and I can perform a more thorough examination though. Tell me, what exactly happened with you two here?" He frowned.

Whilst he then set about dismantling his memory circuit equipment, Spock began to tell McCoy everything that had happened from the time he had leapt through the portal up to the moment of their reunion. He recalled the series of events which had transpired aboard the planet - leading to the indesputable conclusion that McCoy had managed to change the course of earth's history, and he recounted his own discovery that Edith Keller appeared to be the catalyst, telling the doctor exactly why it had been that the young woman had had to die. When he reached the point in the story where Jim had declared his love for her - knowing what was to come - McCoy sighed sadly, the frown on his face deepening, and when the Vulcan finally finished their sorry tale the doctor sat back, a grave expression on his face as he turned back to look at Jim.
He gently reached across to take him by the wrist and check his pulse again - observing that it had now returned to normal - although this did little to reassure him. Knowing what he now did it was no wonder that the man had been so badly effected, and he doubted that his harsh words has helped. Jim had lost so much.

He continued to watch him, almost continuously for the next two hours. He didn't wake, although his sleep wasn't restful either and he tossed and turned - muttering Edith's name. He started to sweat, and as his distress grew McCoy reached out a hand and placed it to his forehead to check his temperature. He seemed a little warm but the doctor couldn't tell if this was because he was developing a fever or whether it was a result of the bad dreams. When he called out Edith's name McCoy suspected that he was probably reliving the moment of her death, and as he started to weep he was tempted to wake him. After a couple of minutes he seemed to settle again however, descending into a much more restful state, and so the doctor made the decision to allow him to sleep on, whilst he continued his anxious vigil.

Finally however the time came to wake him and as Jim opened his eyes in response to McCoy's gentle shaking of his shoulder and the call of his name he looked around, seemingly quite disorientated. He didn't initially appear to register their surroundings, and the doctor suspected that he was probably looking around for something more familiar and comforting than the barren room with its two beds and one now empty table. He needed the familiarity of the Enterprise.

"She's really dead isn't she?" He asked after a confused moment, directing the question to nobody in particular.

"I'm afraid so Captain." Spock nodded, unobserved, just behind the doctor's shoulder. Jim then turned his gaze to focus on McCoy.

"I loved her Bones." He told him sadly. McCoy hated to see the haunted look in his eyes.

"I know Jim." He nodded with a sympathetic smile, placing a reassuring hand on the man's shoulder and steadying him as be helped him to sit up. He still seemed a little weak.
"You need rest Jim," He told him, "but first we need to get back to the ship."

"I don't want to leave her Bones." Jim said - his voice shaking slightly as he wiped away the fresh tears which welled from his eyes. He seemed more with it now than he had done before he'd slept, and more in control of his emotions, but McCoy knew from experience that the Captain was an expert at concealing his pain - physical as well as mental - and he recognised the signs that the man had reverted to character type. It was not a good sign - the only way to exercise his grief was to acknowledge and allow himself to express it. Repression would only cause it to eat away at him, resurfacing at a later date and possibly in an explosive manner. It was something they would have to work at coaxing out of him once they were back aboard the ship.

"You won't Jim, I promise." He tried to reassure him kindly. "Spock has told me everything. I'm sorry I spoke so harshly." But Jim shook his head.

"It's OK Bones, you didn't know." He said, dismissing McCoy's apology - however miserable he was currently feeling he certainly didn't blame his friend for what had happened.

"Your uniform Captain." Spock said, handing it to him and Jim took it almost rebotically, looking at it without really seeing.

"It's time to go Jim." McCoy told him gently, and he stumbled as he got to his feet. Spock caught him by the elbow before he could fall and the Captain looked around sadly. The room might not have looked like much, but it was down to Edith's kindness that they'd spent the past two weeks somewhere dry and warm, instead of on the streets. She had also secured them the work they'd needed to pay for the privilege of a roof over their heads - he was really going to miss her.

"Let's just get out of here." He sighed heavily, proceeding to reluctantly strip himself of his nineteen thirties attire, to replace the clothes she had given him with his Starfleet uniform.

Back aboard the Enterprise later that evening McCoy sat with Spock and Jim in the Captain's quarters. To the doctor's evident disgruntlement M'Benga had insisted on running a complete physical examination on him, to ensure that the cordrazine really was completely out of his system, and McCoy had had Jim confined to sickbay for a few hours until he had been cleared fit for duty once more and could check the Captain over for himself. He'd found his initial assessment of his condition quite accurate - mild malnutrition, emotional shock, mental depression, and a low blood sugar reading. McCoy had adminiatered a glucose shot, slapped a mineral patch on him, prescribed a high concentration vitamin solution, and advised immediate rest - declaring him unfit for duty. Unfortunately there was little he could do about his fragile mental state as a doctor - but as a friend he was hoping in time, there would be plenty. Jim had hardly said a word in the hour they'd been sitting with him, he had initially refused food, but under threat from McCoy of eat or find himself confined to sickbay he had finally relented. The doctor and Spock had joined him to ensure that he did just that - although their efforts had met with only limited success. Jim had pushed his food reluctantly around the plate, occasionally taking small mouthfuls when he noticed McCoy's eyes upon him, and ineffectively chewing and swallowing, but clearly disinterested in the contents of his meal. Finally he threw his fork down with a clatter, declaring that he couldn't eat anymore.

"If you don't eat Jim I'll have no choice but to prescribe intravenous nutrition, which will mean a night in sickbay." McCoy warned him - although it was only a gentle threat. Jim was looking decidedly pale again, and when he next spoke it was only to confirm McCoy's suspicions - who he noticed was observing him with a clinical eye and a concerned frown.

"I can't Bones " He told him, his voice weak and shaky - he swallowed hard. "I feel sick again."

McCoy sighed. He had already given him a dose of an anti nausea medication when they had reboarded the ship, but that had been a few hours ago, and it was obviously beginning to wear off. Jim pushed his plate further away, beginning to look increasingly uncomfortable, and McCoy did him the kindness of removing it - depositing all three of their plates in the hatch by his door for the yeoman to collect - none of them had had much of a stomach for food.

"Alright. I'll give you a nutrition shot." He said, opening the portable medical kit he had brought with him, and taking out a hypospray. "It's not a long term fix Jim, but it will give your upset stomach a break for tonight."

The array of hyposprays McCoy had brought with him hadn't escaped the Captain's notice, and he watched as the doctor prepared the shot by mixing several different vials of medication - passively accepting it as it was injected into his arm. The doctor then ran his small hand held scanner over his patient and frowned, biting his lip thoughtfully.

"Something not to your satisfaction doctor?" The Captain asked him, but McCoy shook his head. In truth he was very worried about Jim, but his concern for him was as much from his perspective as his friend as it was as a doctor.

"I've mixed in another dose of an anti nausea medication Jim." He informed him. "It should help to make you feel a little more comfortable, and we will see how you feel at breakfast."
The Captain nodded gratefully.

He hadn't cried since they'd passed back through the portal, but the doctor was confident that in time that would come. In the meantime he had placed him on two days restive sick leave.
McCoy sat back down at the Captain's desk, next to Spock and opposite their grieving friend. He continued to watch Kirk with a critical eye, but as the three men's conversation turned to more mundane matters, the man seemed to perk up slightly and appeared to at least be trying to join in with their conversation. It was another half an hour before Jim's eyes started to look heavy and his head drooped onto his chest.

"I'm sorry gentlemen." He apologised, looking up at them both with a yawn. He rubbed at his eyes with the heels of his hands to try and shake some some of the weariness from his bones. "I am tired." He confessed.

McCoy was already on his feet however, and making his way around to his side of the desk.

"I think you'd better lie down Jim." He told him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Bones, what's the matter with me?" He asked him, seemingly alarmed by his sudden bout of fatigue. The facade was already beginning to slip, the emotional barrier he had constructed for himself dissolving under the strain, and there were fresh tears glistening in his eyes. He no longer seemed to have the energy to keep up the pretence.

"I didn't just mix an anti nausea drug into that nutrition shot I gave you, I mixed in a mild sedative too." The doctor explained. "It'll help you sleep."

Jim stumbled as he got to his feet, and Spock caught him by the elbow, swiftly guiding him towards his bed and helping him to lie down.

The Vulcan then dismissed himself, confident that he could leave his one friend in the very capable hands of the other. Before he left however he declared his intention to head to to his own quarters to write up his report, so that if either of them needed him they knew where he would be.

"Thanks Bones." Jim smiled. It was the first genuine smile McCoy had seen from his friend since the three of them had been reunited on the street outide the mission, and he watched as his eyes started to close, nodding kindly.

"Just get some rest Jim." He told him. "We can talk some more tomorrow."

McCoy waited until he was sure that Jim had fallern asleep, before dimming the lights and securing the Captain's quarters as he left. He was aware that the sedative he'd given him wouldn't be enough to cure what ailed him, but it would at least enable him to get some much needed rest.

Tonight was his first critical step on the road to healing, and whilst McCoy couldn't do much about fixing Jim's broken heart until his friend decided he was ready to talk about what had happened, he could at least help to keep the nightmares at bay - and that, for now, had to be enough for all of them.