Chapter 10

Desde looked up at McCoy from where she sat next to Jim's bed. "He's still asleep."

It was a resignation that echoed hollowly into his ears. McCoy nodded gruffly. "He'll be that way until I decide his body is ready to wake up."

"I need to thank him before you leave," She murmured. Desde's face contorted into confusion. "And figure out how he found us."

McCoy chuckled at her. "Sometimes Jim just finds the right place to be at the right time. It's one of his idiotic quirks of luck."

They lapsed into silence until Desde, shifted in her seat. "He's like me."

"In a way," McCoy crossed his arms. "He did in fact hate his 'step-father' enough to want to hurt him in a way he wouldn't recover from. But... Jim never followed through with it. I only remember that it was because he realized there was something worse than him."

"What could be worse than the hell brought upon you by a parent?" Desde asked, disbelieving. Her eyes glared at him and McCoy smiled sadly at her.

"When he wakes up, you can ask him," He gave one last look at his friend before disappearing down the hall towards the other patients. Desde stared after him, fury dancing in her eyes.

"What could be worse? Honestly, the people aboard this ship are insane," She leaned back in her chair, aggravation rolling off her in waves. "There's nothing in this world worse than living in a hell that someone is supposed to save you from."

"There is," She jerked at the voice, nearly toppling from her chair. It was like sandpaper against concrete, the little rocks skittering along noisily after the voice had stopped speaking. Blue eyes watched her hazily as Jim pulled himself into a shaky sitting position. "Can I get...some water?"

She nodded hurriedly and handed him the small water cup the nurses had left. Jim coughed against the sweet coldness before relaxing slightly. Desde drummed her fingers anxiously on her legs. "So... I.. um... wanted to thank you for-"

"You shouldn't thank me," Jim responded, taking another sip of the clear nectar. His eyes were watching her over the rim of his cup.

"Why's that?" She huffed. "You helped me get revenge-"

"But all that anger, you now have directed towards yourself," Jim said softly, looking thoughtfully into his cup. "It's going to freeze you from the inside out and then it will shatter. When it shatters you're going to become an empty cold shell. Like I said, there is a worse hell than what you think you've been through."

"I'm used to being empty," Desde looked away to some off ward area of sickbay.

"But you're not used to being cold," Jim cleared his throat. His voice was still gravely and raw but it was commanding Desde's attention. "Ice in your veins that spreads until it engulfs your core. No matter how much you try to warm your body up you're forced to freeze. You can't do anything but shake and fight the losing battle."

"Why is that worse?" Desde asked with a roll of her eyes.

"Because you brought it upon yourself and you can't escape that fact, Desde," Jim coughed, returning to the glass of water. "Before you could blame him for everything that happened. You had an outlet. Now… the only one you can blame is yourself. You'll loathe yourself for what you did even if it was the right thing to do and it doesn't work. You can't hate yourself and still retain anything of your personality, Desde. Because you feel the cold of what you've done, an empty chill that won't leave you in peace. You may not understand that now…. But eventually…." He paused, his eyes glittering as he watched his reflection in the cup of water. "You will feel that dreadful coldness."

Desde stared over his shoulder, the dead conviction in his voice scaring her into silence. She couldn't see anything but the snow that filtered behind him into the darkness. It sent a chill down her spine, one she didn't recognize as anger.

"Desde?" Christine Chapel stood beside her, a warm hand on her shoulder. "Are you ok? You're just frozen solid."

She stared at her, unable to look away because she wasn't seeing her. McCoy came over as he'd realized Jim had woken up. He walked around the bed and took the water cup from Jim's grip. Jim was almost asleep. "Do I have to give you a hypo?"

It seemed to wake both Desde and Jim up. Desde looked up at Christine and stood up. "I have to go. Thank you. Goodbye."

She disappeared out the door in a rush. Christine looked at Jim, skeptically. "What did you do to her?"

Jim smirked. He heard the depression as McCoy pressed the hypo to his neck. "Bones!"

"Jim?" McCoy asked with a smirk. "I thought you needed your rest."

"I hate you, B'nes," Jim slurred as he slumped back to the bed. "Really do…"

"Talk to you in a couple hours," McCoy stretched slightly. "Chapel. Why are you still here?"

She shrugged, a grin on her face. "Figured you needed my help with the relief."

"You know I know that's a lie," McCoy replied gruffly. Chapel took a step closer to the bed, the only thing between them.

"And if it is? What do you plan to do, Doctor McCoy?" She smirked playfully.

His smirk slid wider across his face. "I'm a doctor. Not a schemer."

"Everything's going ok then?" Jim asked as McCoy checked over the nerves in his hand. Spock was standing at the end of the bed.

"Yes, Captain," Spock said with an incline of the head. "Mystral has been given the authority of the people, all injuries have been attended to and all parties that we're responsible have been detained and readied for transport."

Jim nodded and retracted his hand quickly from McCoy's grip as he stabbed him with a needle. "OW! Bones that hurt!"

"Good," McCoy scoffed. "It means your hands are almost back to normal. Can you make a fist?"

"I'll punch you with it if you stab me with one more hypo," Jim snarled, rubbing his hands meticulously. "You gave me 13 in the last two days! That's almost 7 a day!"

"You counted?" McCoy asked grabbing Jim's hand again. "You're such a baby."

"Shut up," Jim mumbled. "You like your hypos too much."

"Scuse me for saving your life," McCoy muttered bending Jim's fingers and pulling them straight again. "How's that feel?"

"Soar," McCoy nodded. A com beeped and Spock was the first to pick it up at the wall.

"Sickbay,"

"Commander there is a communication from the surface," Uhura reported. "Sulu and Chekov are ready to beam up and one of the refugees wishes to speak with the Captain."

"He can talk if he really wants to," McCoy replied. Jim hopped off the biobed to be stopped by a swift hypo to the neck. Jim recoiled away from it.

"Bones," He half whined half groaned. "Really?"

"Yes, really," McCoy rolled his eyes. "Last one for at least a couple of hours."

"Couple of hours my ass," Jim grumbled as he took the call at the wall. "Kirk here."

"It's… It's Desde," Her voice whispered through the clear waves. "Can…can you-"

"Hold on a second," Jim walked over and locked himself into McCoy's office. He smirked at McCoy's curse and kick at the door. "I'm in private."

"I… I wanted to ask you something," Jim sighed at her shaking voice. "How'd you… How do you survive?"

"Is it wise to leave the Captain unattended?" Spock asked. McCoy was leaned up against the door to his office, listening to Jim's muffled words.

"He needs rest to get rid of what's left of his cold and physical therapy for his hands," McCoy replied. "If I can just get him to relax in his quarters for the next few days then it won't be a problem."

The doors slid open and Jim swept out of the room. "We need to go back to the surface."

He swayed on his feet, righting himself as they walked. McCoy grabbed his arm as he swayed yet again. "Jim. What do you think you're doing?"

"Going down to the planet," Jim glanced at McCoy. "They're going to execute Desde."

1398

A/N: So.... Took me long enough to get a chapter up. Hope you all liked it. Reviews are appreciated and needed! Thanks to all who have reviewed in the past. Also, special thanks to the people who have been waiting for my update! Sorry to keep you waiting!