Jim's strained moaning was beginning to grow louder again.
"You must stop hurting him, Cadel…ruining our implant was the mistake of his doctor,"
For one shining moment, Ruri thought that she had actually gotten through to her rageful friend.
"I must discover the meaning for his two kidneys," and he consequently wrenched the incision wider.
Instantaneously, a hoarse scream tore through the room. She made her decision.
She stormed out of the room, not missing the glimpse of tearful, begging blue eyes that were gazing pleadingly at her as the door hissed shut.
Then, in the far distance, the shouting of men could be heard growing closer in the corridors.
While the rest of the landing party fanned out, McCoy stood hunched over with his fingers gripped so firm over his PADD that he was close to breaking it.
He had spoken to Starfleet, or rather yelled at them with a stoic Vulcan in tow, demanding an explanation for his closest friend being carried off by two strangers that had stormed onto the Enterprise.
Apparently, Starfleet had absolutely nothing to do with it and the individuals had lied to get on board.
The building looked like an endless sea of corridors, and although was widely unused by Starfleet nowadays, was still brightly lit by overhead LED lights.
Now they just had to find which room Jim was in.
Clutching his PADD, McCoy slowly looked down to it, waiting for the disconnected vitals to suddenly blink back to life again. It was a far-fetched dream, but all he wanted was to see that his friend was okay.
A commanding voice boomed several doors away, "Doctor."
Glancing back up, McCoy tucked his PADD back under his arm and strode quickly towards the location of the voice.
Spock was with two of the five other landing party members, all of them looking stern and ready to jump whoever had taken Jim.
"You found him?" McCoy asked hopefully, knowing that judging by the lack of excitement on his fellow crew members faces, they hadn't.
"Negative, however my tricorder has begun to pick up life readings approximately 0.43 miles away," the Vulcan read from the device, then glanced back up at the doctor.
"Uh-huh, and how many life-signs are there?"
Spock didn't need to check, "Three. This could account for the two humanoids and the Captain."
McCoy nodded to himself, and whipped out the PADD from under his arm, checking to see if Jim's vitals had been picked up yet.
They hadn't.
"There is no need to concern yourself, doctor," Spock told him, a notch quieter than usual. Only the people closest to the guy would think he was trying to be sympathetic. "The Captain's life-signs are registering on my tricorder, we do at least have the knowledge that he is still alive."
McCoy nodded wordlessly. Yes, Jim was alive, but was he suffering? Or was he just taken as a hostage?
"Thanks, Spock, but we don't know if he's safe," McCoy murmured, "If he was just thrown into a damn cell then at least there ain't danger, but if they're doing their experiments again, he could be hurt."
Something in Spock's eyes changed for a second; a moment of worry slipped past his mask before setting his face in stone again.
"We will continue to search for him, and will alert you of our findings accordingly."
Sighing, McCoy shoved his PADD under his armpit again before striding past Spock, storming down the corridors.
"He's gotta be in one of these damn rooms."
Large quick steps followed his, "May I remind you doctor, that it is dangerous to walk these corridors alone."
McCoy paused, shutting his eyes for a second and shaking his head, knowing that the damn Vulcan was right.
He was a doctor; his medical knowledge would be of no use to him if someone were to attack him on his own.
Suddenly, a loud pained heartwrenching scream tore through the corridor, resonating off the walls and sending McCoy's heart to his gut.
Oh fuck…
That sounded like Jim…
He turned around rapidly, wanting to see how Spock would react, but almost jumped out of his skin when the Vulcan was already catapulting past him without a word, following the sound of the scream.
McCoy ran after him, "C'mon!" he bellowed over his shoulder to the crew behind him.
Multiple shouts of determined security guards shadowed his footsteps, all seven of them tearing through the corridors.
Ruri jumped out of her seat at the sound of pounding footsteps—Starfleet must have finally realised they didn't have permission to be here, and she was the one that was going to get the blame for it.
The screaming from the room opposite her had stopped, leaving her to believe the worst. The human, James, was likely dead.
"Hey, you!" a demanding voice shouted from the distance, the rapid heavy falls of boots drawing closer, "You're one of the bastards that took Jim!"
Slowly, she clenched her fists and turned to face the shouting, spotting two of the men that had chased after them earlier.
Without hesitation, and having a certain protection over the human that she would never admit, she pointed to the door opposite her and stepped back. "He's in there!"
All men came to a halt outside the door.
The one whom she recognised as Vulcan was just unnervingly staring at her stoically; she crossed her arms over her chest as she grew uncomfortable.
"I'm serious, your friend is in there," Ruri repeated, gesturing to the door with her head but not wanting to remove her comforting arms from her chest, "You best be quick, he has grown quiet."
The other blue shirt next to the Vulcan gritted his teeth and took a quick step towards the door, his hand on the access panel, but the alien man grabbed his wrist before he could enter.
"It could be a trap, we must survey the room before you enter," the Vulcan droned quietly, as if to evade Ruri from hearing it.
The other man had obviously grown impatient, his eyes flicking from the alien to the door and shaking his head, "Spock…he could be seriously injured—"
"Doctor, I cannot permit you to enter until the room has been deemed safe. Please remain here until you are summoned."
Ruri hated Vulcans. And from the look of this doctor's face, she wasn't the only one.
He couldn't fault the guy—Cadel was still in there with James, with a dozen of sharp tools at his disposal and he wouldn't hesitate to attack the human's friends to keep his experiment his own.
"Fine," the seething man hissed, removing his hand from the panel, "But you best be outta there in ten seconds or I'm going in, regardless of whether there's a damn automatic photon torpedo lodged into the wall."
With a single raised eyebrow, the Vulcan turned away, giving Ruri another split second of a death stare before barging into the room, followed by the other five security guards.
They were probably in there for all of six seconds, before phaser fire lit the room up blue, a loud clash meant that someone had gone down, and shortly afterwards a red-shirted female stumbled out of the room, gagging and throwing her hand over her mouth.
McCoy hurled himself into action immediately, knowing whatever was in that room was something sickening, and the thought of it sent a knot forming in his already nervous gut.
Storming into the room, he froze immediately when laying eyes on Jim—something he had never done in his life.
"My god…"
His closest friend was laid out on a table, his arms pinned to their sides with a giant hole in his gut, exposing the inside of his chest.
Now he knew why that ensign looked like she was going to throw up.
His eyes rapidly searched for danger, and came across a figure on the floor, noticing it to be the man earlier that had Jim slumped over his shoulder when carrying him away.
Judging by the fact he was sprawled out on the floor and probably unconscious, it was safe to say he could get to work without there being any danger.
Jumping to Jim's side, McCoy was both distraught and relieved to see that the baby blues were still open and staring at him, blonde hair matted and stuck to his pale and sweaty face.
Christ…the hell has this bastard done to you?
He wordlessly spilled the content of his medkit onto the tray, grabbing the first sedative that Jim wasn't allergic to and clicking it into the hypospray.
"You're okay now, Jim, I promise," he murmured into his ear, pressing the hypo against his neck, not being entirely sure himself that he was telling the truth.
McCoy swiftly pulled the gag out of Jim's mouth and chucked it onto the floor next to Cadel.
Jim spluttered at the newfound freedom, then moaned in pain, squeezing his eyes shut and letting the noises escape his lips.
"I know, I know," McCoy mumbled, picking out another vial, of painkillers this time, and sliding that into the hypospray instead.
"Huuuurts," Jim moaned, his voice hoarse and like sandpaper, probably unused for so long.
"I know…damn it, I know," McCoy depressed the plunger into Jim's neck and waited for the pain lines in the kid's face to soften out.
But it didn't.
"Boooones…"
McCoy glared at the hypo's contents, "Damn it to hell, why the hell isn't this thing workin'?"
His head shot round to one of the security guards, "Contact the Enterprise, get them to beam down a portable blood bank and an emergency surgical kit!"
The guards all looked between each other before someone finally snatched up their communicator in a hurry, nearly dropping it, and hurled it open.
"Pleeeease…"
"Shush, Jim, I know, just hold on…"
As he loaded yet another cartridge up, Jim released another sob that sent McCoy's heart to his throat.
"I know…I know it hurts, m' just try'na find somethin' that's gonna work…"
While Jim continued moaning, McCoy pressed the third hypo against Jim's neck and waited for a sign that his pain was at least somewhat relieved.
As horrific as it was, having the restraints in place were probably the only thing keeping Jim alive. Having his arms bound in a T shape beside him was stopping any movement that could cause a massive bleed in the open incision.
"Bones—pleeease…make it stoooop!"
Grunting, McCoy tossed yet another empty vial away and tried to think of what else to do.
He glanced up at Spock, who was hovering on the opposite side of the bed.
"Spock, I…" his arms flailed in confusion "I don't know what to do. He isn't responding to any of the drugs."
Slowly, Spock looked down at Jim's squirming form and watched, his nostrils flaring in anger before turning and marching out the door.
No doubt he was going after Ruri.
"—We need her alive, Spock!" the doctor shouted after him, not looking away from Jim.
God damn it.
He glanced up and made eye contact with one of the security guards.
"Make sure he doesn't kill her," he demanded with fierce eyes, watching as the redshirt immediately hurried after the Vulcan.
Another one stepped forward, the one that had called the Enterprise a few minutes ago.
"Sir, the Enterprise said medical is gathering the blood bank but it'll take a while to sterilize it."
Sighing, McCoy shook his head in denial of the situation, pushing himself up from the table and gazing down at Jim's body.
What was he supposed to do?
The kid wouldn't pass out, and nothing seemed to alleviate his pain. He didn't want his own fingers suturing to be the reason for Jim's agony.
"Bones…"
He winced.
"God, I know, Jim, just…just hold on," he murmured, turning on his heel and desperately searching for something; anything, to help.
Clenching his jaw, McCoy whipped the medical scanner out of his bag and flipped it on, hovering it over Jim.
"What about the emergency surgical kit? Somethin' is keeping him alive, dunno what it is…" his gazed focused on the skin-tight cloth on Jim's body.
The green sheet that seemed to be moulded to Jim's figure was definitely more than tight silky material. It was letting off some kind of chemical onto his skin, which absorbed into his bloodstream.
"They're beaming it down now," the guard said—while simultaneously a shimmering haze lit up the room, as a white box materialised inside it.
Good, the surgical kit.
"Bring it here."
He tried to ignore Jim's quiet moaning from underneath him, adjusting the dials on the scanner until the monitor showed something that made him frown. He didn't notice the guard standing next to him with his kit.
"Jim…" he drawled out slowly, glancing up to Jim's hand and taking it into his, "Can you squeeze my hand?"
Not even seconds later, there was a choked out, "I can't…"
McCoy pursed his lips, slipping his hand away and readjusting the dials. "Paralysis, huh…"
According to his medical tricorder, there was a chemical that not only paralysed Jim from every inch that the sheet was touching, but also appeared to be counteracting all other drugs that deal with the nervous system. Which shouldn't be happening, as the sheet material was paralysing it.
"Okay…okay," he muttered, shoving the scanner back in his bag and taking out a communicator, "We're gonna get you back on the ship, see if we can get this damn sheet off."
"Sir, your surgical kit?"
McCoy glanced up to see a guard holding—oh yes, he'd asked for the kit to be brought to him.
He took it from him, cracking open the case and swearing when he found no gloves.
Get up to the ship. It's safer.
One of the security guards that were loitering around the room stepped forward as McCoy flipped the communicator open.
"Sir, can you not peel off the material here?"
McCoy scoffed, "Damn it man, did you not hear what I just said? It's a paralytic, if I touch it without gloves my hands will be paralysed too. And I ain't got gloves."
Wordlessly, the redshirt nodded and quickly turned away, clearly not wanting to be on the receiving end of McCoy's frustrated rants.
"McCoy to Enterprise, three to beam up—lock onto Spock's location," he glanced down at Jim and sucked in a breath, "-and get a medical team on standby!"
All five guards shot a look at him.
"Sir?"
He narrowed his eyes, "You're staying here to deal with the two intruders. I'm going up with the captain and Spock. Understood?"
They all stood to attention immediately, "Yes sir."
McCoy rolled his eyes, preparing to yell into the communicator repeating his order, but a yellow haze began swirling around he and Jim, the doctor recognising the tell-tale signs of transportation from his sudden dizziness.
He swiftly pocketed the communicator as the world began to fade into gold mist, and decided to comfort his friend, who was probably still scared shitless. "S'alright, Jim, we're going home now."
There was a soft murmur of acknowledgement, before the gold merged into white, and everything disappeared.
"Get him off the table and onto the damn stretcher! Move!"
With the table Jim was lying on having transported up with him; the team of medical personnel surrounded his prison and unbuckled his restraints, lifting him up from under the shoulders and feet, and carrying him onto the stretcher.
"Massive blood loss from a wide surgical incision—that damn green sheet is something I've never seen and appears to be coated with a paralytic that's messing with the drugs I've been giving him," McCoy called out as Kirk was practically thrown onto the stretcher, "Activate the major blood loss protocol and get him down to medical in the OR suite."
As the flurry of personal swamped around the medical bed and raced off down the corridors, the doors leaving the transporter room hissed shut, leaving McCoy and Spock alone in the room with a transporter chief that was probably pretending not to be listening.
Spock wordlessly stared at the door, clearly taken aback by the whole ordeal and the state of Jim's body, but refused to admit anything.
McCoy took a step towards him, trying to get his attention.
"You okay? That was some pretty traumatising shit you saw in there, y'know, even for a Vulcan."
Slowly, Spock turned around to face him, his expression blank but his eyes quite obviously pained. McCoy didn't mention the display of emotion.
"Why are you not with your staff?" was the first sentence uttered from the Vulcan since they arrived back on the ship.
The doctor frowned, biting back a retort something along the lines of and why the hell aren't you?; But decided better of it.
"Cuz they know what they're doing with Jim and I trust 'em. You however look pretty shocked. In fact, you might be in shock, considering what you just saw," he paused, seemingly having a staring contest with the Vulcan before reaching for his tricorder.
"I'm gonna do a quick scan—"
"Doctor, I am fine."
McCoy's icy glare was obviously enough to break Spock's eye contact with him, the negligent Vulcan's gaze now dropping to the floor.
"The hell you are. You even seen what ya look like? Yeah, like shit. Now, just give me a second."
Spock awkwardly stood motionless on the spot while waiting for McCoy finish hovering various contraptions over him.
He knew the transporter chief was still standing somewhere behind him.
Dammit. He is in shock. The hell do I get him down to medbay without embarrassing the green stubborn brick wall?
"Perhaps you should walk to medbay with me," he suggested, more as a demand than an offer, trying to spare him the embarrassment of announcing in front of the officer behind him that he needed help.
When Spock merely gazed at him, not saying a word, he decided to agree with himself and pushed gently against his back.
"C'mon, Spock, let's go to medbay. Let's go find Jim."
Jim was being prepped for surgery, but perhaps the thought of him would at least get the guy to move.
Turning towards the door and gesturing for him to move, McCoy couldn't help but notice out of the corner of his eye the Vulcan beginning to breathe rapidly.
He wasn't entirely sure what the stages of shock were in Vulcans, especially as Spock was both that of a human and a Vulcan; there was no telling whether or not the symptoms would display themselves as clearly as humans did.
Pale clammy skin, rapid pulse, rapid breathing, fainting, nausea…the list went on, and he knew how to detect it just by looking at someone. But Spock could easily be holding all the reactions at bay on the outside, so McCoy had no idea if he was in the advance stages or if he was just borderline.
But judging by the sudden rapid breathing; that control was weaning fast, so he needed to get the stubborn sonofabitch out of the room and somewhere private before he reacts in a way that gets people talking.
"C'mon, Spock, just walk with me," he encouraged, pushing the hand on Spock's back a little harder until the man actually took a step forward.
"There ya go. Let's get you to medbay so that you can sulk in a room on your own all you want," he murmured, pushing him on as if teaching a child to walk, "I might even get Christine to make you some of that plomeek soup if ya don't argue with me."
It seemed to be repetition after this; Spock's Vulcan fortitude being strong enough to make him walk despite the turmoil his brain was dealing with. Silently walked through the corridor, one foot after another, blankly looking ahead and not saying a word until McCoy stopped him outside the medbay doors.
McCoy warned him, "I don't know if Jim's still in here or if they've taken him down to the OR, but uh…just try not to look at him, huh?"
The Vulcan man briefly made eye-contact with the doctor, before staring idly at the door again, hands visibly beginning to shake.
McCoy sighed and stepped through, pulling Spock in as the doors hissed open, "Alright, c'mon, in here…jus' follow me."
To his surprise, Spock just kept his eyes trained on the ground, as if knowing himself that laying eyes upon Jim's grossly misused body was too much for him and had no problem admitting it for once.
McCoy didn't say a word about this, deciding there was nothing funny or rewarding about boasting to everyone that Spock was actually vulnerable and showing it.
This was certainly not a time to torment in good nature when Spock wasn't capable of returning the banter.
"Through here," he instructed, letting bay four's doors slide open completely before letting Spock through.
He followed him in, then turned around to face his medical staff that were all staring wondrously at him on the other side of the room.
Firmly, he ordered "Keep the Captain on nitrous oxide if he still isn't responding to sedatives. Make sure you're wearing gloves," before stepping back further enough for the doors to slide shut.
McCoy swiftly turned back around to Spock, ignoring the fact he was still standing immobile in the middle of the room like a realistic statue and headed straight for the equipment.
"I'm gonna give you a shot of lorazepam to calm you down, then M'Benga is going to take over," he informed him, sliding the vial in the hypospray and turning back towards Spock, "I'm needed in the OR with Jim."
Spock merely watched him; it was blatantly clear now that he was struggling through the sheer tenseness in his muscles and the wild look in his eyes.
McCoy quickly slammed the hypo into the man's neck, expecting a response or a retort going by what usually happens, but nothing came from it.
He frowned, observing Spock's concerned face for a second longer before taking his blue sleeve and leading him to the biobed, being careful not to touch skin in case it caused some weird touch telepathy, probably.
"Okay, sit down over here," he grunted, shoving the man on the biobed with a rough thump.
Spock resumed sitting ramrod straight on the biobed; but the doctor could clearly see that the rigid muscles were loosening, meaning the drug was working.
His pocket suddenly decided to start vibrating, causing him to freeze and frown at his leg.
Reaching into his pocket and pulling out his communicator, he saw an incoming transmission from the OR.
They looked panicked, appeared to be yelling, pointing and frantic. Another woman—Christine soon joined the nurse and started talking as well.
He couldn't hear what they were saying—the communicator was on mute in case it went off back down on the planet and someone heard him.
Instead of turning the volume on, he flipped the device shut again, effectively closing the transmission and pocketing it again.
The hell is happening here…
McCoy folded his arms over his chest and turned to face Spock, "M'Benga is gonna deal with you. I uh…need to go," he quickly strode out of the door and squeezed past before it had even finished hissing open.
He hastily caught the eye of M'Benga, gestured with his chin over to the room he just exited, then hurriedly jogged off into the operating room so he could finally get started on Jim.
Jim's eyes rapidly surveyed the room full of bustling running staff, moving from person to person, but Bones wasn't there.
Where was he? Had Bones really left him?
He remembered Cadel telling him Bones didn't care anymore, but managed to convince himself it was a cruel lie to upset him.
But alas, he still wasn't here.
"Where's Bones?" he croaked at the room that was ignoring him.
A gloved woman came over to him with a pair of scissors ready to stab him—oh it was just Christine.
"Doctor McCoy is dealing with Spock right now," she smiled at him, hardly visible through the harsh overhead light that was blocking his vision and making everything seem white.
Jim felt his heart kick up, "Spock?" he tried to lift his head, "What's happened?" he didn't even know his friend was here.
Chapel's smile dropped, "Let's just worry about you, first, yeah? Let's get this sheet off of you, it must feel very uncomfortable…"
"-Stop" Jim croaked, begging his limbs to move to defend himself but they remained paralysed.
Christine stopped, "This sheet is what's causing your paralysis, Captain, let's get it off now…"
She leaned in to touch him again but Jim ground out loudly "No!"
To Jim's surprise, the nurse did stop, and pulled back, shifting glances between the other members of staff in the room.
Another woman approached him—someone he couldn't see as they were too far away, and tried to coax him into it.
"Captain, as soon as we get this sheet off of you, we can get you to sleep and fix this giant mess in your chest."
Jim would've squirmed if he could've, "I don't want to sleep!" he moaned, whipping his head from side to side, "Let me the hell out of here, you bastards!"
Obviously that offended the other staff, as they merely looked at each other in shock, one of them darting to wall and talking to it.
Clearly his captors are morons.
But if he was still being held captive…why was Christine Chapel here?
He blinked slowly, watching the blonde nurse run over to the other woman talking to the wall and join her in the moronic activity.
"Christine?" he groused, watching with curiosity as the nurse stopped yelling at the wall and turned to Jim.
She hastily stormed over, and for a second he thought he was in trouble.
"Captain? Are you alright?"
Jim let out a breath. Not in trouble, then.
"Did they capture you too?" he whispered, trying to keep from the other captors overhearing, "I'm gonna get us outta here, don't worry, okay?"
Chapel furrowed her eyebrows at him, looking extremely concerned as if she was about to jump straight into a panic.
"I'm okay, Jim, we're on the Enterprise. We're both safe."
No, he couldn't fall for that. Cadel used to tell him that too, to trick him into thinking he was safe with him.
"No…Christine, Cadel is lying to us. We're not on the Enterprise…"
She paused again, then shook her head and turned away, walking off to a tray of disturbing looking instruments.
"Let's get this thing off of him and get him sedated, otherwise the boss is gonna walk in and kill us."
He shook his own head frantically, "No! I need to be awake!" he shouted, trying once again to move his limbs.
Chapel walked towards him again with the scissors, "Relax, Captain, you'll wake up and everything is gonna go back to normal," she coaxed, leaning towards Jim's leg and wincing as he let out an ear-piercing scream.
She shot back, thankfully, and stared at him again.
Another nurse walked up behind her.
"Should we wait for the CMO?"
Chapel continued gazing at Jim for a while, before disposing the instrument back on the tray.
At that moment, the doors suddenly hissed open, heavy footsteps stomping into the room before anyone had a chance to turn around.
"Alright, where is he? What's happened?"
Bones…
Chapel spoke up first, "He's acting a little delusional, screamed at me when I tried to cut the sheet off, thinks we're still on Bovis," then she pursed her lips and shrugged, "He was asking for you."
The second nurse piped up after her, "He asked us to let him out and called us bastards, I don't think he's completely with us."
The tall man in blue nodded, striding over to Jim and glaring up at the monitors above the table.
"Jim? I'm here now, m'kay? You gonna let me do this, or you just gonna scream til' I have to tape ya damned mouth shut?"
Despite the joke, Jim felt his heart go completely nuts at the fake threat, a dizziness suddenly washing over him unexpectedly.
"Hey, hey, it's just a joke. My god…"
Jim slurred through the haze, "I don't wanna go to sleep…"
"Well, you have to, I'm not having you awake for this," he saw the blue blur move away to the left and heard his voice, "Cut the sheet, I'll try to keep him cooperating."
"Yes sir."
Jim panicked, "Bones, we're still on Bovis!"
Bones sighed and rolled his eyes, "I don't know what shit you're trippin' on, Jim, but we're sure as hell back on the Enterprise now."
Jim's eyes flicked from Bones back to Chapel, who was now slicing the scissors through the sheet wrapped tightly around his body.
Eventually the sheet had been ripped in two, Chapel and Bones both tearing the sheet off of Jim's body and leaving it piling up on the floor.
"Put the material in stasis, I want to analyse it and see just what the hell that thing is supposed to be," McCoy ordered as he tore the remaining material from Jim's chest and arms.
As soon as the last of the material fell free, tirades of medical staff began swamping Jim's biobed, grabbing his arms and piercing needles into them, sticking monitors over his chest and neck.
He squirmed as the feeling in his limbs slowly returned to him.
"Fuck…off!" he strained, trying to move his arms, "Let me go!"
In the distance he could hear a shrill fast beeping alarm, hardly recognisable through the fright he was dealing with.
When people began plunging hyposprays into his neck, that was the last straw.
All at once, Jim jolted at the sting and forced his weak legs to move, managing to kick someone in the chest with an oof!
Two warm large hands clamped around his head and forced them to look at the face above him.
Bones was scowling down at him, as per usual.
"Jim, don't you go kicking my staff around, they're trying to help."
Before he could even muster a reply, a sudden excruciating burning pain in his chest sent his vision white; he opened his mouth to scream but everything sounded so distant.
The shouting voices and wailing alarms turned tinny and faded into a ringing sound in his ears.
Jim had no control over his body.
The muscles in his body became rigid, while his face remained constantly scrunched up in a failing attempt to scream.
While his ears continued ringing, he vaguely felt his arms being pulled out to their sides against his will, rock-hard and stiff against the rubber.
Another hypo went into his thigh, and soon the hands clamped around his face were joined by the sharp edges of an object; a warm, sweet-smelling air blasting through his nostrils.
He felt something cold shoot up his veins, up his wrist and up his arm, which simultaneously dragged him down, light-headed.
The pain was still thumping in his chest, every inhale was agony.
But he still tried to open his eyes. A compulsion in the back of his brain saying he had to.
So he did.
Gritting his teeth through the anguish, he squinted at the bright surgical lights shining directly above him, his eyes focusing on Bones in the corner of his vision, shouting and commanding instructions that he couldn't hear.
The man soon met Jim's gaze, his expression softening, his lips moving but nothing was heard.
Something over his face shifted, and he vaguely registered that Bones' hands was holding something to it, and suddenly his dizziness made sense.
Obviously Bones was trying to anesthetize him—the dizziness, the light-headedness, the sweet smell of the gas and weak vulnerable feeling in his limbs. He'd been through this many times before.
Gradually, the world became darker, and he struggled to keep his eyes open.
Desperately, so desperately he tried to stay awake, because damn it he couldn't sleep, he had to save everyone from Cadel.
But the sedative that was gushing through the mask forced over Jim's mouth and nose was too strong.
He sighed.
And he let go.
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