"Come on, Kirk, I'm out of options if this doesn't work." Bones muttered as he pressed the hypo against Kirk's neck. They were completely out of serum, and so far this was the only version that attacked the remnants of the serum in the small sample of Kirk's blood they'd drawn. With a quick prayer to whatever higher power there may be, he released the modified serum into Kirk's bloodstream. And then he returned to his chair, put his head in his hands, and hoped harder than he'd ever hoped for anything that he'd hear some stupid, sarcastic comment that made him want to punch the idiot in the face.
Spock was strangely quiet as well, leaning against the wall in his hourly routine of walking around the small space, or at least standing somewhere. Gathering his strength, even though anything more than a slow hobble was too painful for him still. They had to be prepared to back Kirk when he was finally on his feet again and ready to challenge the Tyrant for the Enterprise throne.
It was always when, not if. They neither one could bear to think if.
Bones was curious about what was happening in the world outside. It was too early for Chekov to be checking in again, although Bones had half hoped he'd be too excited about the potential cure that he would have found an excuse. Then he could tell them what had happened to Carpenter.
They stood around for several hours, just waiting, hoping for some sign of change. Bones ran the tricorder every half hour, noting any change, no matter how miniscule and unimportant they seemed. But after hours of just the barest traces of change, and nothing that suggested the serum had worked, Bones deflated in defeat.
"Well, Kirk, if you weren't so dang stubborn... maybe we could have..." But he couldn't say anymore, couldn't think of any possible futures where the captain pulled through this..
"Then we could put ourselves in more danger." Spock finished for him. "And eventually find ourselves in a very similar situation once more."
"Don't be such a negative nancy." Bones muttered. And for once, Spock didn't correct his Midwest phrase for something more logical. He just nodded, settling himself back on his bed once more.
I will endeavor to be more positive." He said quietly, his eyes on Kirk. "After all, he's only died once."
"Was that... was that a joke?" Bones raised an eyebrow at the Vulcan, who let his lips quirk up in a grin.
"I believe it was, Doctor."
"You must be sick."
"I believe I am in good health, considering my injuries."
"No, it's-"
"I understand the expression."
Bones shook his head. The First Officer must be very concerned, to be cracking jokes. Then again, they were all very concerned, and it was clearly wearing on them all. The transition from the fun loving Kirk to the Tyrant would have been rough, anyway, but worrying about the health of the captain, and surely crewmates as well, was more than they could handle.
Besides, Bones was still smarting from his trip to the planet. Not that he'd let anyone know, of course. If it got serious, he'd do something about it. There was no reason for concern until then, not with much more serious cases in the room with him.
A knocking on the door, and then a man Bones didn't recognize as one of their crew showed up inside, looking strong and fierce. His head was raised, his shoulders, massive as they were, were thrown back so his chest puffed out. His eyes slowly went from Bones, to Spock, to Kirk, as if picking who was the weakest in the group of defeated men. Bones stood, putting himself between the newcomer and his charges. That was his job, to make sure they could heal properly and quickly. Even if the guy was two feet taller.
"Doctor Leonard McCoy?" His voice didn't match his body, quiet, timid. Bones raised an eyebrow and nodded. "I need your help."
"I'm not sure why I would offer it to a member of Brigg's invaders."
"Because I'm trying to help Carpenter? But I'm not a doctor, not really. I can recognize a sprain, or splint a broken leg."
"So I take it she's got worse than a broken leg?"
"Well, I put a splint on the wrist, that was broken, but her legs look like she snapped both Achilles tendons. Horribly. And I don't know... I don't know what to do to help her. I gave her a painkiller, of course, but I don't know how to coax it into healing properly."
"Both? How did she manage that?" Bones muttered, and when the strange man started to answer Bones shook his head. "It was a rhetorical question. I can't coach you without seeing it. Hell, I'm not sure it would be a good idea to coach you through it anyway, but it's not like a have a boatload of other options."
"I can get a monitor and a camera, if that would make you feel better. I can't take her out of her cell, and I can't let you go to her, but..."
"Why do you want to help us?" Spock's suspicions broke through McCoy's medical musings, being the logical voice of reason in the situation, as per usual.
"Because Briggs is wrong. As soon as he got control of the Enterprise... he wasn't always this cruel, he... well, he at least acted the part of good captain before. He had ambitions, and he wasn't the nicest person, but he got the job done well. I always knew he was jealous of the Enterprise, but I thought it was the same as everyone else; new ship, great crew, fantastic stories of adventure and triumph. But that's not important. He changed, and it's wrong, and I don't want to be part of a crew that won't help someone who needs it. Is that good enough?"
Spock eyed him for a good while, thinking, before he nodded. "You believe what you are saying. That will have to be enough."
"Get that monitor, quickly. She's in too much pain for us to sit around dithering about loyalties." Bones muttered, going to his cupboards and pulling out tools. "I'll get you everything you'll need. Go."
"Thank you." The man muttered, running out of the medbay in a hunt to grab the necessary equipment.
Bones turned to Spock after a moment. "Did you catch the kids name?"
"I did not."
"Well, that was rude of us."
"I don't believe niceties are the most important thing at the moment-"
"I know, not logically, but that's what makes us human. C'mon, help me pack stuff."
It was several hours of coaching and cursing that Bones finally helped Amin Kattan repair Carpenter's legs, and by the end of it Bones was ready to pass out from the anxiety of being unable to physically help. But Mia was fast asleep and healing, and, after a requested look at Chekov, he determined that both of their friends would be fine, with time. And that was the biggest relief any of them could have hoped for, what with Kirk's imminent death. Bones forced himself to confront that truth, halfway through realizing the rest of the crew could still make it out. It wasn't easy, and he wasn't happy about it, but at least... At least the rest of his crew was going to be okay. And they'd give him the credit for that, even if most of the time he'd just been dying of allergies or unwanted serum.
"Marcus? Any damage to your person?" Bones asked, turning his attention to the blonde. The camera moved to focus on her, and she shook her head.
"No sir. Just angry."
"Right. Good. Amin, you should probably get back to whatever you were doing before. Don't want to get you locked up with the rest of us."
"Honestly, I'm engineering on this crew. No one will really notice I'm not running around looking for the problem with the Enterprise."
"And you're a doctor...?" Bones raised an eyebrow, even though he knew they couldn't see it.
"I prefer engineering. My father was a doctor."
"Alright. Well, get to it." Bones leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes. "I'm sure Willard will come find you, if you're needed. And, uh... Thanks."
"Not a problem. I'll leave the monitor with you, and the camera with Willard. Should make it a little easier on you all."
"Thank you, Kattan. Your service is appreciated." Spock sat right next to Bones, although he seemed a lot less ready to collapse than the doctor did.
Amin had stopped by to thank Bones and Spock for their help, which surprised them both. The engineer of the Tyrant crew had done them a favor, and, as Spock so helpfully pointed out, logically they should be thanking him. But he left them with another thank you, and Bones and Spock let it go. There didn't seem to be any way they could convince him otherwise.
"Spock, get in bed." Bones said tiredly, once the silence had fully settled and they were once again back to contemplating Kirk's mortality. "You need rest."
"I actually-"
"Don't argue with a doctor, Spock, it just makes you look stupid."
"That isn't entirely true-"
"Fine. Don't rest. Kill yourself. See if I care."
There must have been real anger or frustration in Bones' voice, because Spock silently went to the bed and sat. He didn't lay down, his own small rebellion, but he didn't insist on standing at least.
"If he doesn't wake up..."
"Stop contemplating your mortality, pointy-ear, it doesn't do anything except annoy everyone around you." Bones sighed and sank lower in his chair. "He'll wake up, because otherwise we're stuck with Captain Tyrant for the rest of forever, and I think I'd rather join him sleeping through it." There was more confidence in that statement than he felt, and that was surprising to the usually pessimistic doctor; he wasn't quiet about when he thought things were going horribly, on a normal day. Just went to show how important the Captain was to the normalcy of the crew. How could he be his normal, glass-half-empty self if everyone else was the same way? It sort of lost its charm.
"I agree."
"Shut up." It was barely a whisper, and at first Bones thought he'd imagined it. He looked at Spock, whose eyes were just as wide as Bones assumed his were, and together they jumped to the bed that held the not quite alive James Tiberius Kirk.
"Jim? Can you hear me?"
"Shut. Up." There was a small quirk to the Captain's lips, hardly enough to be noticed unless you saw it happen. But Bones grinned like an idiot, and even Spock looked like his face was about to break in half.
"I'm not sure... how are you even awake right now, you should be in a coma, you're still... Kirk. Damn it, don't do this to me ever again, you hear me? I'm sick and tired of watching you die, I can't handle it anymore. I swear, next time this happens I'm quitting your crew for good, you got that?"
"Sure." Kirk hadn't opened his eyes, but the fact that he was following conversation, that he was speaking, that had to be a good sign.
Unless, of course, it was the final bit of strength that seemed to pop up right before death. But Bones wouldn't let himself think about that. Either he was dying, or he wasn't, but there wasn't much he could do either way.
"How long until I can kick this asshole off my ship?"
Bones couldn't help but laugh at the question, weak and hardly audible as it was. They might just make it.
AN/ This is sort of an in between chapter, but the excitement is ramping up! Thank you for reading, and for your as always lovely comments. I hope you've enjoyed this chapter!