Author's Note: Happy new chapter! Sorry for the little wait. This next chapter was going to be extra long, coming in at over 6k. However, for reading ease I decided to split it up for you but feel that they should be read pretty close to each other. Therefore, you'll be getting that next update sooner than later.

If you feel so inclined, please leave a review. I love hearing from you! This chapter is one of my fav Jim/McCoy h/c scenes...so...hope you can sense that comfort between them as well. And the h/c is NOT done after this, either. There's a long way to go. :-)

Also, if you see another story from me pop up here in the ST fandom in the weeks to come, don't worry. I am not abandoning this one at all. I was only taken by storm by another story, and once it quits throwing me curveballs I'll be more than willing to share.

Moving on - happy reading of Indigenous. Thank you so, so much for following along. I know this has been a crazy ride and you all are just super for sticking with me!

Jim stared unseeingly at a spot in front of him. Nurse Chapel had been near him a minute earlier. He assumed she was now outside his private room and requesting McCoy's presence, but beyond that it was quite obvious to him that she was informing the doctor of something else. Exactly what she would be telling him he both didn't and couldn't know, or she would have stayed. Based on the fact that she left without explaining anything to Jim and from the strain in the doctor's voice when he was in earlier, Jim deduced that they were keeping plenty from him.

Secrets.

Answers.

The pieces he needed to fill the holes. He had none of those pieces, but they had them all.

He attempted to be disinterested but the longer he found himself awake, the more he was riddled with curiosity.

"Dr. McCoy will be here soon. For now, Mr. Kirk, I can continue massaging your hand to ease the cramping." Christine said softly. "Is that alright with you?"

"That's fine." Jim bit his tongue. 'Mr. Kirk' sounded like nails on a chalkboard but he didn't want to risk sounding rude by requesting to be called 'Jim.'

"Good." She proceeded, rubbing her fingers along the most painful parts of his hand first, the parts that never ceased their aching. Just like the holes in his heart and mind. He felt...empty. "It's alright to ask for Dr. McCoy, Mr. Kirk. This is his job right now - you."

Jim would gladly accept help from her or any other medical personnel - but Bones was on edge and Jim had a feeling it was because of him. However, his hand hurt so badly that his new penchant for silent protesting was already fading.

"I'm his job," he murmured. That was difficult to fathom but the idea rang a bell. Still, Jim was greatly confused how one person could be someone else's job. "How long have I been in sickbay?"

Christine barely hesitated, but it was enough to clue Jim in that it was longer than he had first thought.

Another secret.

He had not been here just a few days. Had it been weeks?

"Now, Mr. Kirk," she chided with cheerfulness. "Are you worried that you are taking too much of the doctor's time?"

"Yes." Jim frowned.

"I see. Well, if he wasn't here with you he'd be camping outside your door to make sure you were alright. The comman...excuse me, the captain- "

"Spock? He's a good captain," Jim mused.

"Yes, that's right. Captain Spock issued our orders. Other than the doctor, most of the crew are currently on shore leave."

"Bones has nothing better to do? He'd just sit in a hallway? That's...stupid."

Christine's soft chuckle awakened something in Jim's mind. He felt it and embraced it, a respite from the the hollowness he wrestled with.

A smile tugged at Jim's own lips. "Glad I'm just lying in a bed, then, needing his help. It sort of works out."

"I think he'd be even happier to see you smiling, Mr. Kirk."

Jim's breath caught. Smiling? It was more than that. He'd just made a joke. A joke. So easily...it felt normal...but why? In the throes of confusion, he missed the swish of the door and the identifiable footsteps of the doctor.

"Jim?" McCoy called softly. "Are ya alright, buddy? You're not breathing and I know it's not physical distress. You're holding your breath.

Jim exhaled a rush of air, speechless.

"Mr. Kirk and I were having a light-hearted discussion." Christine came to his rescue. "About...camping."

"God help me, the last time I stayed in a tent it was..."

Jim's attention faltered as he remembered all on his own, his mind taking him down an unguarded corner the Re'an missed...

"...pouring rain, Jim! Pouring rain!" Bones grumbled, tipping his head forward to avoid the drops slipping into his eyes over his slicker. "And these." He tugged at the oversized garment, almost letting go of his side of the tent. "They're not worth the-"

"Aw, come on, Bones." Jim would do what it took to keep the good doctor happy - except allow him to be transported back on the Enterprise. "It's the perfect time. We have three days shore leave and when day breaks, we'll have the perfect view of the sunrise. Tomorrow will be perfect weather for you to work on that full-body tan you want-"

McCoy snorted.

" -ed, I promise, Bones." Jim smirked, putting his hands on his hips. "And don't worry, the poisonous snakes -"

"Snakes!" Bones did let go of the tent then, the Vulcan coming up behind him quickly snatching it before the wind and rain overcame their shelter. Jim rolled his eyes, wiping the cool, refreshing rain from his face. After the five hour hike, he couldn't quite see what McCoy was complaining about. It was just a sprinkling. "How'd you like to be camping in a valley of eight-legged creatures capable of crawling right into your sleeping bag, catchin' ya unawares, Jim?"

Jim shivered before he could help himself. The thought was abhorable, yes, but this was too much fun. Or, would be, once Bones settled in for the night and Jim could break out the cupcakes Uhura made from scratch just for him while he and Spock finally had some time to catch up. He smiled gleefully at the scowling doctor. Spock ignored the both of them and took over setting up the tent.

Bones wagged his eyebrows at Jim. "Or, maybe you'd prefer numerous, big painful hypos for the sake of keeping you healthy, especially after the sugar rush you're planning later tonight."

Jim's mouth gaped open. "How did you -"

"Ya can't put that stuff past me, kid. I'm your CMO ya know, not to mention your personal physician. I have the authorization, buddy..."

He jolted back to reality. "Bones, what's a CMO?"

"Jim, I can't ans-"

"Spock to McCoy."

Bones sighed. "Yes, Spock..."

What did Bones mean, I'm your CMO? Jim had one. Bones was a CMO. His CMO. What was it?

"Jim."

He should know this, shouldn't he? Why didn't he know?

"Hey, buddy," Bones gently squeezed Jim's shoulder.

Jim swallowed. "Yeah. Sorry. What were you saying?"

"Before what I have in my hand gets cold, you should know that I have something that might interest ya."

The delicious scent of chicken broth wafted Jim's way. "Soup." He widened his eyes, breathless with anticipation as his stomach issued a low growl.

"Guess I came just in time." Jim could hear the amusement in Bones' voice. "Wouldn't want this diet you've been on to continue too much longer. It's just broth for now but you'll graduate to soup before ya know it. How's the hand?"

Jim shrugged, not knowing how to answer to such an ambiguous question. Which hand? At the movement, one shoulder cooperated with certainty and the other remained a limb he could not find but would do almost anything to feel again. He grimaced.

"Mr. Kirk, shall I stop?" Christine asked softly. The spoon clanged against the bowl as Christine addressed him and Jim strained to hear the muted words Bones muttered. After a brief pause, Christine continued to massage his arm as if nothing had happened. Jim vaguely wondered what bothered the doctor so but then dismissed the thought. "Am I hurting you more?"

"No, it's...it's fine." Jim blinked. Nurse Chapel's hands were as gentle as before and quite aware - they found each painful spot but her kneading had finally eased them to a bearable level. Jim's mouth tingled as he impatiently waited. "I'm...fine."

"Your allergies are a potential risk with any combination of drugs I've given you, and I am unable to give you more to ward off the pain. However, Spock will be here soon," Bones said gently. "He'll be able to decrease your discomfort. Until then, let's work on this appetite of yours. Here's your first bite, Jim."

Jim's face went slack as he thought of being spoon fed; even though he could feel his arm and hand, he could not hold a utensil. There had been another time he'd been spoon fed. Something had been wrong with his body...radiation? As Bones began to feed him, Jim allowed the confusing thought to slip away. The first few spoonfuls of broth were awkward, once or twice the broth slipping off his lips and probably dripping down his chin, but soon, Jim got a hang of the timing. Bones took the broth away far sooner than Jim would liked, but he understood.

"Not too much," Bones said softly and the doctor's footsteps carried him to the other side of the room. Nurse Chapel let go of his arm, murmuring a promise to return after Spock's visit. "But don't worry, you'll have more in a little while. I see that your pain levels have decreased and hopefully, your stomach is a little more satisfied than it would be with an intravenous diet. It's going to be like this for a while, Jim. Besides the fact you've been on this particular diet recently, we performed several surgeries on your stomach and we must introduce solids slowly."

Jim bit his lip. He wanted to know what type of injuries he received, but it wasn't altogether necessary to ask. He also wanted to know what Bones meant by 'a while.' And he still didn't understand the word 'CMO.'

"What's on your mind?"

"Many things."

Bones lightly touched Jim's shoulder. "There always are," he murmured before letting go. Jim waited, hearing the doctor heave himself into a chair with a sigh. "Spock will be here any minute. That's what he had commed about, and I want you to know that you can ask us any of your questions. I won't be able to answer all of them, but I will try. So...go ahead. Talking about things will help. I know this has to feel different to ya. How does it feel?"

Jim sucked in a breath. Answer a question he didn't know how to answer in the first place? He wasn't sure how to describe how it felt. He felt... "Missing," he breathed.

"What else?"

"Something's just not right. Something happened, and it wasn't just the meld. Something bad, and the longer I've been awake, the more questions I have."

After a moment of silence, Bones exhaled a long, careful breath. "I will be honest with ya, Jim. I'm your physician. I have been for a long time."

"I know that," Jim whispered, but knowing wasn't the same as remembering. Bones was a ghost to him, much like this place was, and he had the innate sense that it wasn't right to view his friend this way. He remembered him, saw the two of them at an unidentifiable educational facility or on a starship he didn't know why he was on, and often Bones was fixing him or they were hanging out and carrying on with quips and good-natured sarcasm. However, he had no context, nothing to make sense of those scenes. Worse, he wasn't sure if he should mention this or keep it to himself for fear that he'd wear out his welcome before Bones fixed him.

"I know what makes ya tick. I know every allergy ya have. I know the name of every single bone you've ever broken and how many times you've broken them. I keep tabs on you, I heal you, I fix you. I understand Jim Kirk. Because I know you, Jim, and because I am responsible for your health, I have to keep some information to myself until you are well enough to process it correctly. But, I know you're thinkin' just like ya always do." Bones paused, a sign for Jim to answer.

"Something bad did happen." As with his words before, Jim whispered. "But you can't tell me."

"Yeah, something did happen to ya and now you must be here with us and not on Re'an V, and you're right. I can't tell you the details, buddy," Bones said softly. "Not yet, at least."

"Okay." His heart thudded wildly in his ears. He was to be treated as if he were a child and the fact of the matter was - he really didn't mind. He didn't want to know what happened. Things confused him - the way Bones and his nurses danced around the information, the way his injuries weren't explained, the feeling he had that it would be a long time before he saw the Re'an. Whatever had happened to him, it had to have been bad. Really bad. And maybe to the Re'an...something even worse. He gulped a breath. Maybe all of them keeping secrets from him wasn't such a bad idea, after all.

"Jim, ya still with me?"

"Yes," he breathed. But the truth was, he felt alone again.

"You're not alone, Jim," Bones said firmly. Panicked, Jim realized his error but Bones didn't give him the chance to withdraw his statement. "I'm here, Spock is here, and the two of us are going to do everything we can to help you. We will need you to help us and at times work a little harder than you may want to or expect, but you don't have to worry about 'what happened' anymore. Let Spock and me do that. I know in the past...in the recent past our friendship met with...unprecedented difficulty. From now on, Jim, I will do everything in my power to cultivate our friendship and mend it. I want you to know that this? Having ya here in my sickbay? It is where I want you to be so I can help you. I don't want you to be anywhere but here. I don't want to be anywhere but here with you. So, that said, will ya let us do the worrying for you?"

Jim wanted to trust Bones and with this display of honesty he should trust Bones, but he wasn't altogether sure he could believe in their mended friendship in the blink of an eye. Then again, Bones was a good doctor - the best - and Jim believed that with his whole heart. He squeezed his eyes shut, tried to nod, tried to close his hand in a fist. He was soon rudely reminded of his limitations, managing only to induce a piercing agony throughout his entire arm. He refused to cry out and locked his jaw. Instantly, a hand rested on Jim's shoulder and another took Jim's injured arm and began another gentle massage.

Jim huffed a breath as the redundant motion gave him respite from the pain. He attempted to keep the tear captive, the tear which had formed from the pain and Bones' compassion. He did trust Bones - in everything. Honestly, today he couldn't even remember what they'd even been arguing about or why. Or what had happened. Maybe it hadn't been as important as he thought; but, it had been enough to cause this rift between him and...it was useless. He felt the tear disappear from his eye and assumed it trailed down his face. There was no way Bones would have missed it.

"Is there something else botherin' ya, Jim?"

"I..." Jim swallowed as more tears pricked his eyes. He shouldn't be crying. The Re'an would not. And...he missed the Re'an but he missed something else more that he couldn't put a finger on. Something...something that may have caused one of the holes in his heart. Or all of them.

"Do ya want to talk about it?" Bones asked softly.

Everything was dark. Everything. So Jim didn't know if he wanted to talk about it, he didn't remember, and he didn't want to cry more - and said as much.

Bones lightly squeezed Jim's shoulder. "Maybe it would be a good idea for us to postpone therapy until tomorrow."

Jim's mind raced, anxiety rising within his chest. That meant Spock might not come. Jim didn't care if it meant he'd still be in some pain. This meant Spock would remain busy with this ship that Jim still was confused as to why he was on in the first place, but talking to the Vulcan helped him not dwell on that confusion. He helped Jim not dwell on anything too much, but Spock would be busy with this ship's crew and Jim would be without the two people he trusted most if Bones had to leave-

I will be there, Jim.

Jim blinked. "Spock?"

"Spock's not here, Jim."

"But I..." He exhaled a slow breath. He was losing it. First, this crying and now...he heard Spock's voice but the Vulcan wasn't here! "Bones...am I...am I losing it?"

"Losing it?"

"My sanity," Jim forced a laugh. "I feel like I am."

"Buddy, you've been through a lot lately and things may be confusing for a little while still, but you're not crazy."

"I thought I heard him."

"Who?"

"Spock."

"Ya thought ya heard...Huh. Jim, on second thought, if you're up to it, maybe we will push through therapy. Do you think you could?"

Jim wasn't sure he could push through therapy well at all, but he detected an expectation in Bones' voice that Jim didn't want to douse with cold water. "I think so."

"Afterwards, I can bring you more broth and while you rest, maybe Lieutenant Uhura can be your first official visitor. She offered to read to ya, knowing you've always liked that."

"She did? Uhura?" Jim sniffed.

"She sure did. And although I can't wear ya out and let them all visit you today, your friends are anxiously waiting to see you. Chekov found out some interesting things about his family tree he thought you'd be interested in. Carol wants to make sure Uhura doesn't hog all the reading time. Sulu wants to stop by soon, and he may be the first after Uhura. He probably won't say much but at least you'll be guarded by a master swordsman while you rest. Mr. Scott...well...that visit will be last and kept short and sweet because who knows what trouble you two could find."

Jim brightened instantly, having no idea how much his happier expression encouraged the doctor.

"So...Uhura," Jim said slowly. Trouble sounded a thousand times better than the monotony he'd been dealing with - and far more interesting. "Then...Mr. Scott."

McCoy's lips twitched at the nonchalant reply. "Don't push your luck, pal."