Hey, just wanted to say thanks for all the comments on here! I can't reply to most of them as they're guests or just go straight to PM but rest assured I read all of them! And without them I would never be motivated to carry on here...so thank you! 3

Bones growled, then offered a snarky half-smile, "You're coming straight down to medbay after your talk with Pike, alright?"

Jim rolled his eyes, "Yeah, sure, whatever."

Bones gave him a warning glare, before shaking his head and turning back around.

Quickly, Jim tapped in the rest of the key code and slipped into his quarters, waiting for the door to finally slide shut before collapsing on his hands and knees.

Pain.

He had to get rid of it.

It was the pane of his existence.

But every time he took in another forceful rapid breath, it would exaggerate the pain again, make itself known.

So, he had to slow down so it would hurt less frequently.

But he couldn't.

Jim took in another wheezing breath and squeezed his eyes shut, moaning as the tension simply made the pain worse.

He was shaking; he knew it.

Still on his hands and knees, he could see a blurry image of his hands, they felt achy and weak, sheens of sweat covering his clammy palms. His knees felt like they could just collapse.

He let out a cry of distress and slapped his hands to the sides of his head, causing his body to become unbalanced and fall forwards, leaving him shaking and gasping like a fish washed onto shore.

Jim knew what this was. It was a panic attack.

It had happened once before at the academy. Once.

But he had managed to hide himself away in his room and skip out on a lecture, so no-one could see him weak.

He was James Tiberius Kirk, over 400 crewmembers looked up to him as a role model, as something to strive for.

They were never going to see him like this.

"Kirk?" a voice clipped through the loud wheezing noises he was making.

Jim nearly jumped out of his skin; he thought he was on his own. What was someone doing in his room?

He blinked rapidly to force some tears to fall, clearing up his vision, but alas there was no-one there.

Mind you, he was lying on his side and facing only one direction.

Regardless, he brought his hands up to his face to wipe away any evidence that he had been crying.

I was yawning. That was it. I haven't slept in a while.

Being drugged by someone who cuts open every inch of your body doesn't count.

"Kirk—" the voice stopped mid-sentence and grew softer, "What the…"

Moments later, Jim saw a shadow loom over him before the presence of legs appeared into his vision.

The figure knelt down beside him.

"What the hell's happened, son?"

Shit.

It's Pike.

No no no no he can't see me like this…

'Get out', he tried to say, but instead his throat constricted, and he wheezed pathetically as his panic grew stronger.

The shadow moved.

Something grasped his left shoulder; a hand probably, but he couldn't see it. Only feel it.

'The implant will make you lose vision in your left eye," Ruri had said to him earlier.

Or was that yesterday? He couldn't remember. How long had he been down there?

The hand's purpose suddenly was realised when Jim was pushed with ease onto his back, the face of his mentor finally coming into view, as did the ceiling. Along with the feeling of embarrassment, considering he was now lying on his back wheezing like a dehydrated dog.

"What happened, Jim? Did the ambassadors do something to you? Well, of course they did, just look at you, what did they do?"

Jim winced inwardly as the constant talking ignited the pain in his eye again, only able to lift a rigid shaky hand and croaking 'stop', without any reason for the word.

Pike's face was laced with concern; something that Jim rarely had the honour to see for himself.

"I'm not going to just stop talking and leave you here, Kirk. Who did this to you?"

Grasping his gold shirt, Jim tried to ground himself, his mind still reeling through the whole ordeal as it hit him.

Those bastards were probably watching him right now, through that implant that they put in his brain.

"Jim?" Pike was still waiting for a response.

Licking his dry lips, he took in another deep breath, determined to calm himself before speaking. There was no way he was speaking to an admiral as a sobbing, gasping mess.

"Okay…" he exhaled, still waiting for the shuddering to subside, "Was them…"

Pike pursed his lips together and frowned, "So, they did hurt you. Okay, we're getting somewhere now," he offered a sarcastic smirk while Jim shook his head.

"Agh…" Jim sighed in exasperation, refusing to make eye-contact, "I don't know what that was, sir, I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry. But I need to know more about this. I'm guessing they're off the radar now?"

Jim snorted, "I wouldn't pit my worst enemy against them. They act so damn…happy and chivalrous as if what they're doing is completely normal," then he paused, remembering what Ruri had said, "In fact they said it was normal. They do it all the time."

"Uh-huh," Pike nodded, shifting his weight onto his side to get into a more comfortable position, "And what did they actually do?"

Jim fidgeted uncomfortably on his back, his now relaxing fingers splayed out over the hem of his yellow shirt. This wasn't something he wanted to talk about.

"I uh…"

I don't want sympathy.

"Let's just say they took a couple of bites out my skin and manipulated me with the Federation a bit."

Well, no, I manipulated myself with the Federation.

I manipulated myself using you as an excuse to let them do it.

Regardless, Pike merely sighed in what seemed like frustration and continued to push him on.

"Come on, son, what else did they do?"

Jim shrugged, "I'm serious, they nicked my skin a couple of times."

He lifted the cuff of his sleeve to expose his wrist.

Small red scars and cuts were visible all over his skin, but there were not half as many incisions as he had found over the rest of his body. Hence why this was his choice of showing.

"It's not as bad as it looks," he lied.

Pike leaned over to Jim's wrist but pulled himself back instantly, obviously trying to resist the urge to get touchy.

He nodded to the arm as Jim pulled it towards his chest, "And what did your doctor say about this?"

Jim was sure his heart skipped a beat at that.

"He doesn't…" Kirk sighed and screw his eyes shut, "He doesn't know, I came straight here."

Pike glared him down, "You got injured and came here instead of the medbay? What kinda planet were you on?"

Jim smirked warily, "Not a very good one," he jested.

The Federation were definitely going to retract their offer. If they didn't…they were insane.

"Well, you need to go see someone, son, these scars don't look too good."

Jim scoffed, glancing down at his arms and tucking them between his knees, wincing as his pelvis twinged at the movement.

"Don't even know how I got that many scars," Jim curled his fingers into a fist, his figure now looking tightened into a ball, "They managed to scar it over a couple of hours. Pretty amazing technology over there, saw it for myself."

Something on Pike's face told Jim that he had just said something wrong.

Surely the idea of their new-found enemy having 'superior technology' wasn't offensive?

"…Not in a good way, though," he quickly corrected himself, "They don't use it civilly, maybe if we had equipment like that—"

Pike interrupted him, "How long were you down there, Kirk?"

Jim paused and snapped his mouth shut.

He hadn't actually taken the time to think about it…

"Well, they were talking to me for about ten minutes, used…something on me for another twenty," he didn't want to risk causing alarm for admitting someone had messed with his brain, "…had me unconscious for a couple of hours, say four, and then I was trying to get out for another five, so…about five hours."

Pike's eyes darkened, and Jim felt his stomach drop.

He shook his head, "No…"

Pike spoke softly, "You were gone for two days."

…No.

How can it be two days?

…They were doing tests on me for two days?

…No wonder I have so many scars…

"I…"

Jim swallowed hard as his throat began to tighten again.

God, no, not again.

Not now.

Not in front of Pike.

"I don't…don't think…I…"

Don't cry. Don't cry.

Stop being a moron.

Think about what Bones would say…stop being an infant.

This is an admiral.

…No, don't think about Bones.

Bones is in a medbay.

Bones is a doctor.

It looks the same as the chamber on the planet.

Spontaneously, Jim unlocked his hands and feet from his curled-up position and surged over his knees, vomiting over his red carpet floor and leaving him gasping for breath again…in front of Pike.

No. No. No.

"Pike…"

No, don't call him Pike…

"Sir…I'm-I'm-I'm-I'm—" his wheezing was interrupted by the older man grasping his shoulder and hauling him onto the floor.

For an older man, older than Bones, he sure had a lot of strength.

…Or perhaps Jim was just weak.

As Jim was rolled from his back onto his side, he brought his knees up to his chest and resumed shaking like he had done minutes before, trying desperately to internally calm himself and stop this ridiculous uncontrollable panicking.

"Breathe, Jim. Take your time," the authoritive tone taken on him was like that of a Captain instructing his crew.

A firm hand that he recognised as Pike's kept him grounded, while he lay on his side sucking in air and trembling over nothing.

"So…so…so…so…path-path-pathetic…" he groaned, lips trembling as if the room was the Antarctic.

He saw Pike smile weakly in front of him, "It's alright, son, we'll get through this."

Jim couldn't even force himself to return the smile.

He was going to have to try to hide this somehow. Stepping foot in the medbay was completely out of the question, he might as well go back down to Bovis and be experimented on again.

Pike lay a hand on his shoulder, "You need to go and see that doctor of yours, alright?"

Jim instantly shook his head.

He was staying in this room. Right here. With or without Pike.

"I'm guh-gonna… take a sh-sh-shower," he decided firmly, his voice still trembling somehow.

He definitely wasn't anxious, no. He was cold. Yes. The air conditioning was malfunctioning.

As he rolled himself onto his front, a hand pressed against his back.

"You sure that's wise?"

Huh.

Jim scoffed.

"'Course it's wise, I just wanna warm up, y'know, get refreshed, that sorta thing," he protested, pushing himself from his knees to his feet and half-stumbling over to en-suite door.

Pike didn't relent, "Jim, I think you should go see a doctor first," he suggested, following him up to the door, "What about your physician? McCoy, wasn't it?"

Jim's face flushed red as panic coursed through his barely contained veins, "I-I-I I don't—" he paused, knowing his stuttering was only proving the admiral's point…

…Took a breath, then continued, "I don't need a doctor," he exhaled firmly, "I need a shower."

Pike stared at him for a second, that look that just said you're bullshitting me on this, aren't you?

But the man let out an exasperated sigh and gestured towards the door.

"Go on, but don't be long. Or I'll walk you to medical myself."

Jim assumed this was probably some kind of test, but he never backed down from a challenge.

"Yeah, whatever, admiral," he smirked, knowing he was probably the only man who was able to wave off an admiral and get away with it.

Heading into the bathroom, the door slid shut behind him and the water automatically turned on, flowing warm water onto the tiled floor.

Stripping his clothes off, Jim winced multiple times as clothing that had stuck to blood pulled on his skin.

He managed to step into the shower without slipping on the warm wet floor, allowing the water to cascade down his cold scar-ridden body.

The time alone for the first time since he had woken up on the experimentation table allowed him to look over his body in detail for once, to see the damage the Bovis people had inflicted on him.

They had definitely done something to his chest, he knew that, or found something of interest to them. Small inch scars were littered over his torso, looking like spaced out tally lines judging by how many there were.

His arms didn't have anywhere near as many cuts on them, which was why it was an easy choice to pull up his sleeves to Pike instead of lifting his shirt.

Glancing at the lower region of his body, there were fairly large incisions that ranged right from the top to the bottom of both his thighs, probably to expose the large muscle. There was another extended cut under his knee caps, but there was nothing on his ankles or toes, probably not able to get that far as Jim woke up too early.

His genitalia though…didn't seem to have improved from when he first woke up. It was still swollen red, and from looking closer, there was an incision from top to bottom of the organ, the area surrounding it littered with scars.

It was possible they had managed to get their hands on a human female, and of course had not expected to see that when they were studying him.

Or perhaps the information they did research was based off of a female anyway, which would explain the increase of cuts over his chest, considering he didn't have breasts.

He frowned.

How was he going to hide this?

He would have to wear long sleeves and trousers for the rest of his remaining time on the Enterprise. The cuts were in too high in quantity, it would be easily spotted otherwise.

What about the physicals Bones forces him to go to? There's no way on earth he'd be able to put off the exams for another five years when one was due every month.

Still…perhaps he could cover them with makeup, especially for McCoy. It could work, he could ask a favour of Uhura, make an excuse as to why he was borrowing her makeup…

Shrugging it off and sighing, he wriggled his toes as the water dripped off of them, fidgeting a bit when his head began to feel swimmy again.

Perhaps he should take it slow when it comes to standing for a while.

Pike lounged on the 'specially assigned golden captain's sofa'.

At least that was what Jim called it to make it sound magnificent, when in reality…it was a yellow sofa. A luxury only a Captain could have.

The water had been running for ten minutes now, a hell of a long time to take a shower. Jim obviously didn't take Pike seriously when he said be quick.

He half considered turning the water off to save excess consumption, but then again, he assumed Jim probably earnt it. He had been through a lot, he could tell simply by the charade he pulled off when he waltzed half-limping into the room.

When another five minutes had passed however, Pike began to grow concerned.

Now it was just getting ridiculous.

He pushed himself up from the sofa and knocked on the door;

"Jim? You've been showering for fifteen minutes, that's ten minutes more than the recommended amount of time."

Water was a luxury on the ship, it had to be saved whenever possible, due to having a limited supply.

No reply.

"Jim? I'm gonna turn the water off if you don't answer me," as soon as the words left his mouth, he felt like a right idiot when he looked at the control panel next to the door and realised there wasn't an on-off button for the water.

It was a precaution for overly-self-righteous crew members.

Not a Captain.

He sighed, "You might be injured, son, but you're a Captain, ignoring an admiral's demands is a pretty serious defence."

The sound of water continued.

Still no reply.

"Kirk! That's an order! Turn the damn water off!"

Twenty minutes of continuous consecutive valuable water wasted. A sense of foreboding washed over him.

"Jim!"

Growling, he banged his fist on the bathroom door and shouted, "Damn it, Kirk! Don't make me call your engineer to cut off your water supply!"

When there was still no reply, Pike felt the hole in his stomach grow larger, a pit of worry sending him striding quickly to the wall comm.

He hit the button and stumbled out the words carefully, "Admiral Pike to MedBay."

Instantly, a gruff reply.

Thank god, it was Jim's physician.

"McCoy here."

He cleared his throat, but spoke with haste, "McCoy, I'm concerned about Kirk. He's been in the shower room for twenty-five minutes and is not answering me. Hell, I've threatened to turn the water off and court-martial him, and nothing."

In the background, the sound of water continued to run.

"Damn it. I'm coming down. I assume you're still in his quarters like we arranged?"

McCoy had agreed with Pike to keep the admiral in there for when Jim arrived back, knowing he would shut himself in there instead of coming to the medbay. Clearly it worked, but there wasn't much explanation like they'd hoped.

"Yeah. He hardly told me anything, but he does appear to be scarred on the wrists."

McCoy's reply was hissed back, "And you didn't think to send him to me?"

As the sound of water continued to rush behind him, he nearly shouted back in frustrated worry, "I tried to get him to talk! And don't speak to me like that again, McCoy, but I'll let you off considering the situation," then added quickly, "Now get the hell down here!"

He rapidly turned his head towards the door, obviously it was still shut with the sound of water bleeding through it, but his anxiety continued to grow.

"Have you actually gone in there and checked if he's alright?" came a gruff reply from the comm.

Scowling, Pike turned back and spoke into the device, "He's in the bathroom naked! Of course not!"

Half-way through some unintelligible grumbling from the other side of the con, an alarm sounded from inside the bathroom, followed by a female computer voice.

"Warning. Thirty-five minutes elapsed since water usage began. Water shortage inevitable."

Cursing under his breath, he turned back towards the con, "What'd you want me to do?"

He heard more mumbling from the other man, before something comprehensible was picked up, "I'm gonna transfer this transmission to my communicator," came the calm and controlled voice, "Just get in the damned room and make sure he's alright."

Pike shook his head and leaned against the wall.

He was an admiral for crying out loud, he can't go barging into bathrooms of Captains, the board would probably sack him.

"Sir, Jim's life could be in the balance here because of a little ego," he heard Jim's physician through the comms, "I won't tell a soul that you went in there, as long as you don't tell anyone I told you the CMO override is 195964. Now go, dammit!"

Grunting under his breath, Pike stormed over to the bathroom door and entered the emergency override. Only the Captain and CMO usually had access, but the override under McCoy's ID let him in too.

As the door slid open, a deluge of steam throttled out of the doors and into the main quarters, sending Pike into a coughing fit.

"Pike? Is he alright?"

When the mist cleared, the saw two things.

Firstly, the shower head was still throttling out water despite no-one being under it.

Secondly, Jim was lying stark on his back, on the floor, drenched with water, hair completely matted, and didn't seem to be moving.

Without further hesitation, Pike quickly stepped into action, slamming a fist onto the power for the shower to turn the dwindling water supply off, before kneeling to Jim's side.

The blonde had cuts and scars covering every inch of his body, large incisions across muscle that looked like it would hurt to move. Some scars looked redder than others, there was even some swelling in the legs and…well…

"Pike! Damn it, is he alright?"

"Uh," he hesitated, unsure of how to describe Jim's condition to him, "He's not looking good, you better get down here fast."

A curse.

"Is he awake?"

Pike shook his head despite no-one being there, "No, but he's breathing, just unconscious by the looks of it."

Another pause.

"I'm almost there, don't move him; he might have hurt his back. Is there any blood?"

Pike let out a small huff of distress, quiet enough for no-one else to hear, before leaning across Jim and trying to decide whether he was bleeding anywhere.

It was hard to tell; the water had been running for so long it could easily have been washed away.

"Don't think so; could have been washed away."

He carefully reached a hand towards Jim's forehead and brushed the wet hair from his face. It must be uncomfortable…even if he wasn't awake.

Seconds later, the door hissed upon; a tell-tale sign of the doctor arriving, so he quickly moved to the side to allow him through.

Sure enough, heavy rapid footsteps sounded beside him, a shadowing looming over both he and Jim before the man dropped to his knees beside them, without acknowledging Pike.

The medkit was snapped open and tossed to one side, then McCoy grabbed something from his pocket and immediately leaned over Jim.

Pike shuffled out the way as he got to work.

McCoy rest a gentle hand on Kirk's face; much gentler than Pike knew him for, before running his palm to the kid's forehead and grumbling.

"Jim? Can you hear me, kid?"

No response.

The hand moved to Jim's eyelids, pulling them back with a thumb, the other hand producing a penlight that was swiftly shone into both eyes. McCoy rapidly examined them both before he let them shut, pocketing the device away again.

"Pupils are reactive, but these cuts look bad," McCoy observed, reaching for his medkit and switching out the penlight for a hypo, "Get me a towel or a blanket, or something."

Pike nodded, scrambling to his feet in search for anything that would give Jim at least a shred of dignity.

Two hypos of adrenaline had gone into Jim's bloodstream; he should be awake by now.

McCoy frowned, grasping Jim's wrist with one hand and feeling for his pulse; which was exactly the same as it was since the last ten seconds ago.

Pike returned by his side and draped a towel over Jim's abdomen, which McCoy quickly helped him with, keeping a mental note of the swelling down there.

A small voice mumbled something from below him.

"…M' smmm w'nna g'shower…"

McCoy quickly took the med scanner and hovered it over Jim, reading back the results that fed back to him.

His brainwaves were all over the place, signalling he was drifting between consciousness and unconsciousness.

He pocketed the scanner and clasped both hands over Jim's face.

"Jim? C'mon, stay with me, kid."

Pike seemed to be observing the situation standing in front of the door.

"Bones…"

"Yeah, that's it. S'alright, you're doin' just fine," McCoy lied, rubbing his knuckles over Jim's arm to keep him grounded.

Jim's blue eyes fluttered open, looking hazy and drugged despite being shot with nothing but adrenaline.

"Cold…" Jim murmured, his hands struggling to reach his chest as if to wrap himself up in his own arms.

"I know. Pike, get me another towel and call for a hoverbed," he ordered to the man standing behind him, "Didn't think I'd need one but this damn idiot is worse than I thought."

As the admiral left the bathroom without word, McCoy glanced back over to Jim and watched his face for any signs of discomfort.

Jim didn't look to be in pain; his face was relaxed, only his eyes seemed to be darting around as if trying to make sense of the situation.

The sheer number of cuts on the younger man's body made his stomach twist with both concern and anger.

Why would someone so heavily injured and susceptible to infection run off to their quarters instead of immediately getting checked out?

He sighed worryingly.

Because it's Jim Kirk, that's why.

"M'cold…" Jim repeated, his eyes fixated on McCoy's as if begging for warmth.

McCoy felt his stomach do a flip, "I know, I'm gonna get you warmed up soon, I promise."

Lying naked on a freezing cold floor surrounded by puddles of water was sure to make a man uncomfortable.

"Here," Pike returned out of nowhere with another towel, "I've called medical and they're dispatching someone down with a hoverbed."

McCoy nodded his thanks and grabbed the towel off of him, brushing it over Jim's chest, trying to soak up the cold water.

"Get me the medical scanner," he ordered, not taking his eyes away from Jim as if wiping someone's body down with a towel was a surgical job.

The device was soon slipped into his hand, and so he hovered it over Jim's body again.

"There's only so much we can do 'til help arrives. If he's slipped and hurt his back I can't risk moving him,"

Pike hummed in acknowledgement.

"I'll wait outside his quarters for them."

McCoy agreed, "Yeah, go on."

As Pike left the bathroom, McCoy glared at his scanner as it gave him results he didn't want to see.

"Temperature 34 degrees Celsius," he spoke out loud to himself, "It was just a shower, damn it, you weren't in the damn ocean."

Jim fidgeted from underneath him, obviously growing more lucid and uncomfortable on the tiled floor.

His expression lightened, "Try to stay still, Jim, we don't know what damage you've done 'til you get a spinal scan."

The younger man's eyes drifted to McCoy's medscanner, then very slowly he lifted an arm inches from the ground and attempted a feeble point at the device.

"X-Ray?"

Sighing, he pocked the scanner once more and scrunched the towel in his hands into a ball.

"Yeah, I can use it to see broken ribs, dislocated ankles and such, but I need proper equipment to look for spinal cord damage. So, you need to stay still." He spoke as if speaking to his daughter.

He might as well be, Jim looked half out of it, his eyes drifting once again elsewhere.

After a few moments of silence, tired eyes floated back to McCoy's hands and stared at the towel.

"Give it to me," he demanded, desperation in his eyes.

McCoy scowled, but plonked the scrunched-up towel onto the younger man's chest.

If anything, it was a good test to watch for ability of movement. His face was intense, concentrating hard on trying to grasp at the towel, his hands weak and shaking but attempting to move them none-the-less.

It took another thirty seconds for Jim to grasp the end of the towel and stretch it out from its scrunched form to being pulled flat over his chest.

In the end he seemed quite satisfied with himself, even glancing up at McCoy as if waiting for praise.

Instead he asked, "Are you moving slow because you're hurting, or because your body won't move the way you want it to?"

Jim's face dropped in disappointment, clearly hoping for a compliment on his hard work aka pulling a towel over his body and mumbled out a quiet "Don't know."

McCoy shuffled closer, grimacing as his now wet clothes touched his skin with the movement, "Well, you must know. Does it hurt when you move?"

It wasn't a hard damn question.

And he wasn't used to having patience with his patients.

"Jim, answer me. I need to know. Are you hurting?"

He couldn't tell without having the biobed pain indicator monitors in front of him.

"Where's the damn hoverbed…" he mumbled under his breath, glaring at Jim when he continued to remain silent.

He whipped out his PADD and watched for any messages explaining the delay.

Late arrival of medical equipment was something that was not acceptable, especially not in McCoy's book.

There was of course nothing there, just a notification indicating him of the recording of the transmission he and Pike recently had.

Glancing back up at Jim, his heart nearly stopped when he saw how pale he suddenly was.

Immediately, he tossed the PADD aside in favour for his medscanner, hovering it over the silent figure while asking, "Jim? You still with me?"

The device bleeped rapidly at him, alerting him of the sudden increase in heart rate.

Jim's hands were becoming clammy and sweaty very rapidly, along with his chest increasingly expanding faster.

With his free hand, he leaned over the blonde and pulled an eyelid back with his thumb.

"Pupils enlarged. God damn it. Why the hell…"

He scoffed in disbelief under his breath and turned his head to the door and nearly screamed; "ADMIRAL!"

He scooted closer to Jim and run a hand through his hair, "S'alright, buddy, it's alright…"

"McCoy?"

Pike appeared by the bathroom door, thankfully hearing him from standing outside Jim's quarters.

McCoy turned to face him again, a hand still running through the kid's hair.

"He's going into shock. Run down the damn corridor and push them here if you have to, find out what the hell is happening!"

Pike nodded, taking a few seconds to glance at Jim but somehow managed to not make any obvious reaction in his expression, then darted out the door again.

Wordlessly, McCoy rest a hand on Jim's forehead, grimacing at the heat radiating off of his skin.

At the touch, Jim moaned pitifully under his breath, his lips beginning to tinge blue.

How the damn hell did this happen so quickly?

"…Y'didn't pick anything up…?"

McCoy's head shot down to face the tired blue eyes of the pale kid that was somehow clinging onto consciousness, then immediately to the medical scanner which wasn't detecting anything abnormal at all apart from warnings of shock.

"Pick what up? What?" but the blonde's expression just fell slack as he succumbed into unconsciousness, "Jim! Pick up what? Jim!"

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