A/N- Sorry for how long it took to update! I've been working on another fic and I can only work on one fic at a time, so I made up for it with an extra long chapter. Also, this is the last chapter for this fic, I don't want to keep dragging out the storyline. I hope you liked the whole story. Enjoy!
…
"I uh.. ask for your assistance in a situation with Captain Kirk." McCoy stated, hands behind his back.
"Uh huh? Where is Kirk?" the admiral asked, his face getting bigger in the picture as he was peering closer.
"He's in sickbay. Sir."
Pike shifted around in his seat but nodded.
"Fill me in on what's happened."
"Well.. he's uh, recently been given a mission involving Tarsus IV" McCoy watched Pike's reaction, and sure enough, his expression tensed up.
"What did he do?"
"Well as of so far, he has stabbed himself with a scalpel, drugged himself into an overdose, hallucinated Kodos twice and attacked a few of my nurses, most recently the Enterprise's chief engineer, Montgomery Scott."
"I see." Pike's calm and stable voice was betrayed by the almost horrified expression on his face.
"We're just going around in circles here sir, I uh, ah.. I'm not sure what to do"
Pike seemed to contemplate this for a moment.
"Can you get him on the bridge so I can talk to him?"
Trying to drag Kirk up here will substantially increase the chance he's going to flip out.
But then again, if Pike can help him..
"Yeah, I'll get him up here. Spock, can you ask for two orderlies to bring Captain Kirk up here?"
The Vulcan's face turned into a frown.
"Orderlies, doctor? Is that necessary?"
"Trust me Spock, he won't be able to get here on his own."
"What the hell's this?" Jim was being dragged onto the bridge by two men, one arm each hooked under Jim's.
"Captain Kirk," Pike greeted the struggling man.
Jim froze at that voice. It was Pike's.
"Pike?" his stomach felt like it was being squeezed, and Jim wasn't sure if it was in a good way.
"Yeah, I'm here son."
Kirk's legs stopped working, and he unexpectedly dropped to the floor, the two orderlies jumping back by surprise, but then hovering closely over him.
There was a grumble and then a "Move out the way!" from the CMO.
Jim opened his eyes at the face of the doctor above him.
"Why?" he breathed, pushing down the urge to expel the contents of his stomach onto the bridge floors.
"It's good for ya, Jim." McCoy's tone was gentler than usual, he was kneeling down beside him.
"Is everything alright?" came the voice of the admiral.
"Yeah he's good. Aint'cha Jim?"
Jim only stared at him in confusion. "My legs feel weak" he admitted, too tired to care about his ego right now.
"Yeah? Well that's the shock. I'll give you a shot for that" McCoy reached into his medkit while Jim remained frozen to the spot.
Jim was ten times more scared of hypos than usual. He couldn't put his finger on why. Instead he stared at the doctor, who was trying to find said hypo, feeling his breathing quickening while his vision blurred. The world felt surreal.
Maybe he was still dreaming.
Maybe he was still with Kodos and he was going to give Jim that sickening smile followed by a hypo then sent him into mindless pain for two hours straight.
He sucked in as much air as he could.
He needed more air, more air, more air. Or he'd suffocate.
Jim remained half frozen to the spot, if it wasn't for the intense quivering and breathing that was more like hyperventilating. He waited in fear for the shot. He was coming any second.
Any second he pchyed himself up. His body started shuddering so hard that it almost looked like a seizure.
He waited. And waited.
The pain would come any second now. He'd be sent into agony. His eyes were fixated on the wall next to him as he shook.
Just then, a hand was placed on his shoulder, followed by soothing words, but Jim couldn't understand them.
"Jim. It's okay, I won't give you anything. Jim?" McCoy tried to calm the younger man but he continued to deadpan at the wall, quivering.
"Jim I can't give the hypo to you while you're like this, calm down kid, it's okay!" he looked up at Pike on the screen above him. Then back down at Jim who had started uncharacteristically whimpering.
Bones raised a worried eyebrow. "Just breathe kid, try to breathe slower" he encouraged, rubbing up and down his back.
Jim hiccupped.
"Slower, Jim. You're gonna be okay. Nice and slow for me." he checked the readings with his medical scanner. He frowned.
"See what I mean?" he gestured towards Jim's form. The admiral's face looked grim.
"I need to give him a sedative sir, his vitals are dangerously skyrocketing." McCoy glanced between Pike and his patient, still rubbing circles into Jim's back.
"That's fine. I've seen what's happening now, we can discuss the rest when Jim is safe." Pike answered, growing concerned for the man's health.
McCoy nodded, rubbing a finger against the skin of Jim's neck in an attempt to warn him, then delivered the hypospray as gently as he could.
His friend instantly fell slack against him, McCoy eased him to the ground.
Jim woke up to the sound of the steady beeping of monitors.
What a wonderful day to escape from sickbay and warp to an uncharted nebula he thought.
"Jim?" McCoy's voice interrupted his plans. "You alright?"
Jim grunted.
"That a yes or a no?"
What he wouldn't give for Bones to be able to read minds right now.
"Mmnnyes" he answered slowly, ready to fall back to sleep.
Before he was jabbed with a hypo.
"Ah-Bones!"
McCoy grinned and placed the hypo down, glancing up at the monitors.
"Don't go to sleep yet Jim, we need to talk."
Jim groaned. "M'bout Pike?"
"Yeah, and you," Bones sat down next to Jim. "Listen, Pike has taken the Enterprise off the mission for Tarsus. It's been transferred to some other godforsaken tincan out there"
Kirk's eyes shot open in alarm.
"But that means- it means I failed!"
McCoy shook his head in sympathy. "No Jim. This mission is hazardous for your health. You didn't fail, we just need to be given a new one"
"But Kodos, he's here, he's here, he's- I'm the only one who knows-I-I'm the only- the next ship! They'll-he'll find them and then they'll die and-"
"Calm down Jim, you're working yourself up into a state" McCoy readied a hypo, just in case.
"But-"
"Calm down."
"But Kodos-"
"Will be dealt with if he's still here, and I really doubt he still-"
"B'ness" Jim interrupted him and slurred, his muscles tensed up, he felt lightheaded.
"What's wrong?" McCoy took out his scanner and quickly ran it over Jim's body.
"Booones" Jim warned him anxiously, feeling like he was going to pass out.
"Hold on kid" McCoy yanked the biobed down into a straight line, leaving Jim now staring up at the ceiling and the doctor's face that covered it.
"B'sss" he breathed, before swiping at the black spots that invaded his vision.
"Stay awake you moron, Pike'll be pissed if he can't get a speech out of you"
"Goin' sleep sounds good now.." Kirk let his eyes shut; allowing the wonderful deep dark void of nothing to consume him when,
"Ow!"
McCoy rammed a stimulant into his neck.
"I said no sleeping. Pike wants to talk to you."
Jim groaned. The last thing he wanted was a long talk about Tarsus and having a three hour argument about why Jim shouldn't go back on Tarsus, even though he's obviously fine.
"I wanna sleep" he moaned, even though he knew McCoy wouldn't allow that.
"Tell me why you want to go to sleep Jim? Pike isn't important enough to you?" McCoy knew the obvious answer was he was tired- too tired, and it was a known fact that panic attacks often exhausted a person after an episode. But keeping him talking would help him stay awake.
"I just wanna sleep"
"You use that pathetic excuse on me again and I'll dump so many stimulants into your veins that you won't be able to sleep for a week." The CMO teased, draping an arm around Jim's body, "Come on, up." he commanded, hauling the man into a sitting position despite his groans.
"Now m'jus' feel dizzy" he swayed on the bed, McCoy holding him steady until he gathered his senses.
"We're gonna see Pike, and after he's had his talk, I'll bring you right back here and you can sleep all you want. Alright?" McCoy gently helped Jim lift himself into a standing position.
"But right now we have to listen to him. He's an admiral after all." The doctor added.
Jim grunted his acknowledgement and began walking with the doctor's aid to the sickbay door.
...
"I've got him, Pike," McCoy announced as soon as he stepped foot on the bridge.
Jim wearily looked up at the screen, that was displaying a very passively frustrated admiral. Jim winked at him.
"What have you gotten yourself into now, Jim?"
The Captain shrugged the best he can with being half submerged into McCoy's shirt.
"Dunno sir" he muffled. Pike visibly sighed.
"Listen, son. We've had to redirect the Enterprise's current mission to another ship. I'm not going to relieve you of your command, because I know you're going to heal." he explained over the static. "It made you temporarily unwell mentally and emotionally and should never have been given to you, but most of our officers don't have access to your private medical history."
Kirk nodded, while being gently prodded over to his Captain's chair by McCoy.
"McCoy has been given full disclosure to the whole event as he is your chief medical officer and personal physician. Do you understand what I'm saying?"
Jim once again nodded, licking his dry lips and leaning back in the chair. He soon felt McCoy rubbing his shoulders for what he supposed was meant to be comfort.
Jim didn't want the entire crew suspicious of what he'd went through, he wished Pike would've just been patched through to his quarters. He stared at the floor. He needed to escape.
"I want to go" Jim whispered against the doctor. A firm grip of a hand on Jim's left shoulder let him know that McCoy had heard him.
"Thank you for your time, Admiral" McCoy said, giving a certain glance towards the monitor that he hoped represented "please take the hint and leave"
The request was received, apparently, as a small sympathetic smile and a nod was all he got in return before "Anytime. Contact me if things change" followed by the transmission ending.
Jim let out a breath he didn't know he was holding, turning a burrowing himself into McCoy's shirt. A hand eventually was pressed on his back, with small whispers of "It's gonna be fine, kid" and "Need to get you out"
Jim sat on the edge of his bed alone, in his quarters, contemplating what Pike had said.
A mission had been removed from the Enterprise' case and given to someone else. Jim was supposed to be the best. The crew were supposed to be the best in the fleet. Was he incompetent? Would they get rid of him?
Would he lose command?
Jim's thoughts washed around in his mind like gravy. He could only think of one thing.
He was losing control. Losing command.
Losing command of the Enterprise.
His breath hitched in his throat, snapping him out of his thoughts. He noticed how constricted his chest was.
Maybe he was sick.
So sick that even Pike noticed. In fact, so sick that everyone noticed how sick he was apart from him. His attention focused back on his chest again. It was getting harder to breathe.
Shit. If they found out, he would get fired for sure.
Losing control.
Losing command.
Losing command of the Enterprise.
Jim pulled himself into a standing position, immediately being greeted by the cold ground seconds later.
The wall comm. He needed to reach it. Bones needed to fix him before he loses control of the Enterprise.
Jim hobbled over to the wall.
Wait.
If he used the comm, people might hear him. Then he'd definitely lose command.
He made his way to the door, the seconds it took to swing open felt like minutes of agony.
Need to find Bones.
Need to find Bones.
McCoy was finishing up a physical from an engineer.
"And next time don't be 3 hours late!" he yelled after them, rolling his eyes. After the around-the-world trip of his eyeballs, McCoy caught a glimpse of the engineer looking stunned at something, turning round to McCoy, then quickly fled the room.
A flood of emotions bullied him for a second, before he managed to prepare himself for what was next.
Jim came barging through a hissing door, knocking himself into it before it had even finished opening, stumbling forwards, then desperately looking around the room.
"Where's Bones?" he croaked hoarsely, even though Jim was right in front of him.
"Right here, Jim" McCoy said, taking the man under his armpits and leading him away. "Let's go you on a bed, what happened?"
Jim's eyes widened in terror, Bones didn't know why. There was nothing here, and Bones hadn't unleashed his endless supply of hypos on him yet.
"Need to fix me Bones, or I'll lose command"
McCoy dragged him to the bed, glaring up at the offending vitals as soon as the alarms began sounding.
"I'm dying Bones, my chest hurts, they're gonna relieve me of command, I'm gonna- they're- I'm losing command"
"I'm losing command of the Enterprise" Jim repeated for the millionth time, scrambling and fidgeting under McCoy's hands.
"Jim, Jim! Look at me" the doctor tried to grab his attention. "Why'd you think that kid?"
Jim looked dumbfounded and gawping like a fish. His eyes contained many unspoken words
"Can't.." gasp "..Breathe.." gasp.
"Chapel get in here with a sedative and a TriOx compound!" he yelled, holding onto Jim's arm with one hand and dragging over a tray with the other.
"Nothing's wrong with you Jim, you're just havin' a panic attack, you're okay" he soothed, pressing a mask against the man's face, covering his mouth and nose.
Chapel appeared at Jim's side, giving a hypo that read sedative to McCoy to check that Jim wasn't allergic to it, then pressed another hypo into his neck; the TriOx.
Jim continued to struggle. McCoy nodded to Chapel his approval and handed the sedative back to her. Then glanced down when a sweaty hand starts bashing itself against the mask.
"Jim," McCoy takes the angry hand onto his and places it against his chest, "That mask is to help you breathe, it's just oxygen, okay?"
Jim exhaled quietly and moans in surprise when a sedative hits his veins. His eyes follow Chapel's hand, which puts a hypo down.
"Wha' that" Jim slurs, then grimaces when a throbbing pain settles into his lungs.
"It's just a sedative, it's okay" McCoy rubbed the back of his neck with a hand, shaking his head in disbelief at Chapel.
"But it hurts" Jim complains, bringing a floppy hand to his stomach. McCoy gently pulls Jim's hand aside and tried to look for the problem himself.
"Where does it hurt, Jim?"
"Mmm" he replies instead, sedatives kicking in strongly. His eyes fluttered, a void dragging him down, and for once Jim didn't want to fight it.
Jim thought he heard voices. Maybe he was finally going insane. Where had he embraced self-doubt before? It felt familiar.
"Gonna.. him.. stay... quarters.. week.."
Jim tried to piece the words together.
Oh, right.
The memories came back to him rapidly, like a tsunami washing over an unsuspecting victim.
He thought he was going to lose command.
How embarrassing.
"Jim?" He instantly recognised the voice calling his name, then realised it was Bones who was talking the whole time.
"Jim, I know you're awake, open your eyes for me"
No way. I'm going right back to sleep.
An eyelid was peeled back and before he could react, a light pierced through his eyeball.
"St-Stop" Jim found himself struggling to speak. His throat was noticeably hurting. The offending eyelid was dropped.
"Open your eyes or I'll stab you with a hypospray. Three of them."
Both his eyes shot open before Bones could finish his sentence. Jim scowled.
"How you feelin'?" came McCoy's voice, Jim feeling pissed off that the doctor couldn't tell that he felt like crap. Then he felt a stronger surge of anger.
"Why'd you sedate me?" he asks wearily, although desperately wanting to go back to sleep.
"You were panicking like all hell. Couldn't calm you so I had to sedate you"
Jim sighs, not bothering to continue that conversation.
"Jim.." he heard Bones sigh too, as if waiting to drop a bombshell on him. "I'm diagnosing you with PTSD."
There it is.
"I'm gonna have you on a cocktail of drugs, and you'll be on leave in your quarters for a minimum of a week, no exceptions" Bones emphasised on "no". McCoy held his breath, waiting for a rage-fuelled argument to ensue.
But Jim felt nothing, strangely. He did feel like he should protest, tell McCoy that he was wrong and at the very least be allowed back on the bridge, but somehow, he just didn't care.
"Okay" Jim replied softly, catching McCoy's face twist into a shocked expression as he let his eyes close.
"Okay?" McCoy asked in disbelief. "Okay? Is that it? No... arguments? No protesting?"
Jim shrugged the best he could and sniffed.
"You're the doctor" he sighed, rolling onto his side to block out the man from his view.
"Alright..uhh" McCoy sounded unsure, probably at his sudden compliance, "I have to tell you why I'm giving you this diagnosis, okay?" he waited a few beats, but continued when there was no reply from Jim.
"Well, uh, since you came back from uh... Tarsus, you've been having panic attacks, hallucinating, paranoid, jus' plain scared outta your mind, and I gotta do something about that, y'know? I'm not letting you back on duty for at least a week, and I'm gonna be giving you some drugs every day for a three weeks."
Jim's body jerked into a sitting position at the last two words.
"Three weeks? Every day? For three weeks?" he gripped onto the edge of the bed when the blood rushed to his head, vision blurring.
"Easy, easy" Bones hushed, gently pushing Jim back down by the shoulders. "Yeah. Whether you want me to administer them or you is up to you. Twice a day. Four hyposprays. After treatment is done you'll be right as rain." he added, patting his head. "Better than that stuff of the dark ages.. where most people are on meds for life. You should be grateful"
Jim grunted, then shifted himself under the blankets. Perhaps never receiving help after Tarsus when he was a child contributed to how he was reacting now.
"I gave you the first round while you were out of it, the next set is due before you go to bed tonight." McCoy explained, standing up from the bed and swiping across monitors. "And don't worry, you'll be sleeping in your quarters."
Jim sarcastically groaned in 'excitement'.
Whoopee, he absolutely could not wait to be stabbed four times in the neck before trying to sleep.
There was an eerie silence above him for a while, he swore he could hear McCoy breathing.
"Talk to me, Jim."
Oh.
So Jim grunted.
A long sigh.
"Don't grunt at me, idiot, say something"
Jim felt his throat swell up.
Alarms suddenly blurted from above him, McCoy's hands were instantly on his face.
"Jim? Hey, talk to me kid! What's happening?" McCoy's eyes scanned over him.
Jim's eyes wearily opened, revealing blood-shot eyes, a single tear ran down his cheek.
McCoy's facial expression turned into concern, and worry, something not rare on the doctor's face.
Jim shuddered, then didn't see the point in holding it in anymore.
He turned his head towards the mattress, unleashing wracking sobs into the sheets.
A warm hand almost immediately began running up and down his back.
"Aww, kid." a muffled voice behind him cooed. "It'll be okay. I'll look after ya, yeah?"
Jim nodded, strangely soothed by the rhythmic circles being rubbed into his back.
"Take a deep breath- couple of deep breaths, in an' out" he quietly told him, Jim did as instructed, although albeit shakily.
Eventually after a few minutes of silence, Jim slowly held out his arm to McCoy, lifting his head from the pillow slightly to look at him.
"Make me go to sleep" he mumbled.
Jim was absolutely, well and truly, done with being awake. There was a sigh though, which usually meant Jim wasn't about to get what he wanted.
"While I love stabbing you with those things, I don't want to keep sedating you whenever you get upset" he said, his hand returning to Jim's back. "You can sleep without sedatives, Jim"
Once again, McCoy got only a grunt in reply. The captain's head flopped back down onto the pillow, ready to sleep; however long that would take.
"I'll get you some food when you wake up, yeah? After that it'll be time to properly have a good long sleep in your own bed." McCoy grinned at him, "I think it'll be good for you"
Jim listened intently, then slowly turned himself into his back, feeling like crap with the brightness hitting his face, but having his face shoved into a pillow was making it harder to breathe. Jim exhaled loudly so McCoy would hear and turn to face him.
"If I sleep now... t'will be harder to sleep later.." Jim analysed out loud, as if it was the most in depth tactical analysis he had ever made, with layers of logic even Spock would be proud of. Then he paused and opened his eyes.
"Where's Spock?"
McCoy rolled his eyes to the ceiling.
"He's back on the bridge"
Jim shuffled under the blankets some more.
"If I sleep I won't sleep later and it'll be horrible."
"Like hell it will be. Why not eat now, then I'll take you back to your quarters to sleep after?"
Jim contemplated this, and nodded agreeably.
"Be right back" Bones said, before scuttling out of the room.
…
Jim eyed his soup suspiciously.
"What'd you thinks' in there? Disembodied Vulcans? You know, if I have to practically live with one for another year that's how things are lookin'" Bones teased him, and slapped his back. "Come on kid, eat up. Not letting you sleep 'til you do"
Jim groaned, but obeyed and carefully swallowed a spoonful. Then gagged.
"Ew, what's in this?" he spluttered, glaring up at McCoy as if he'd just fed him poison.
"It's a perfectly normal vegetable soup. From the replicator mind you"
Jim grimaced and downed another spoonful. The quicker he'd be allowed to sleep, the better.
Also, they needed a new replicator.
He pushed the bowl away. Three spoonfulls was a record amount of food ingested for the past 3 weeks.
"You done with that?" McCoy asked, tapping the bowl with a fingernail. Jim nodded, confirming it by shuffling back into the bed.
"Don't get comfy, we're going back to your quarters now" Bones said, standing up and eying the IV drip, wondering how the hell he was gonna get it from here to Jim's quarters. It was only saline, so perhaps he could convince Jim to drink water often instead.
"Alright, stand up," he said, manoeuvring his hands under Jim's armpits and hauling him up. "Can you walk there, or you want me to get a hoverchair?"
Jim grimaced. "I'm not being carried there. I can walk" he said sulkily, shuffling his feet over to the door, McCoy close by him.
Jim exhaled in relief the second he sat on his bed. Free of the stench of sickbay, free of IV lines and noisy patients, cluttering and banging of incompetent staff members who couldn't seem to put a folder down without waking half the Beta quadrant up.
"You settled in there?" Bones asked, opening up his medkit. Jim swore he could see him smirking ever so slighty. Then he realised what he was doing.
"You sad machoist" Jim groaned, pulling the covers up over his head, which were obviously a better line of defence than photon torpedoes.
"Come on Jim, I told ya. Four hypos, twice a day, for three weeks."
A muffled groan from under a bundle of sheets.
"But that's 56 hyposprays a week! 8 hypo's a day!"
"Yep. Now get out from under there" McCoy said, tugging at the sheets, but Jim's determination to stay away from his mentally life-saving devices of beauty overpowered him.
McCoy grunted, pushing the medkit aside, and ferociously wrenched the sheets up. There was a quiet surprised yelp at his sudden loss of security, followed by eyes full of betrayal watching him.
McCoy opened his medkit again, took out the first hypo, and gave Jim a "deal with it" look.
"Hate you" Jim whispered under his breath.
"No you don't," McCoy answered, checking the dosage and turning Jim's neck to the side firmly with one hand. "Don't be a little bitch and maybe I won't ram it into your neck on purpose" he teased, pressing it gently against his neck. Jim was already exhausted both mentally and physically, McCoy didn't want to make it unnecessarily worse just because he wanted to vent his frustration on something that Jim most certainly had a better reason to be upset for.
A little squeak was all he got. He hoped it was in surprise and not in pain.
"Infant" McCoy shook his head, readying the next hypo.
"Can't you do it faster? You're just dragging it out on purpose, I bet Chapel would have done all four of them seven times by now."
McCoy grinned.
"Oh yeah? Let's put that to the test, let me just get her in here and make her hypo you with all four of them, seven times" he smiled, grabbing his communicator, although not pressing any buttons "I'm sure she can't wait to hypo you twenty seven times, hold on"
Jim lazily slapped it out of his hand, but his face showed that he clearly wasn't in the mood to be teased.
"Please Bones, just give me the treatment and be done with it" he whispered, closing his eyes and turning his head to the side.
Wordlessly, McCoy pressed the second, third and fourth hypo against Jim's neck, silently enjoying the hissing sound it made. It was gratifying.
"All done." He announced, packing everything back in his medkit. "Now if you need anything, use your communicator. Do not try to wander all the way back to sickbay, especially if you're feeling unwell. Don't want you fainting in the corridors."
Jim nodded, snuggling back down under the covers.
"Oh, and," McCoy handed him bottled water he had with him. "When I come back in the morning, I want all of that to be gone. In your stomach, not down the drain"
Jim frowned.
"It's either that or the saline drip." he added, standing up and walking towards the door.
Jim closed his eyes, ready to finally have his first decent sleep in weeks.
"Jim?"
Jim warily looked up at him again.
"You'll be okay on your own, yeah?"
Jim chuckled to himself, closing his eyes again, sighing.
"I'll be fine, Bones." he muttered, already being dragged to sleep by his exhausted brain, "I always am."
The End.