Chapter Text
“Doctor, according to my calculations, the Captain has been approximately 10.93 months in the reality he’s currently in,” Spock says and boy, does he need to sit down after hearing that. Jim has been alone for almost an entire year. That can’t be right.
He knows as well as everyone else aboard the Enterprise that James Kirk is a fighter, but he also knows Jim needs to be home—on his lady—to be himself and he’s terrified about what all that time and distance have done to his best friend.
He’s not worried about the Captain. His body is here with them in top condition. His mind will be just as brilliant as it’s always been, perhaps more thanks to the new experiences he gained on his last quest.
Jim’s heart is another matter. For that, he’s worried sick, can barely stand on his two damn feet.
Someone nudges him to a chair. He’s only vaguely aware of taking a seat as he blinks and tries to will air into his lungs. He’s having a hard time believing—no, accepting—Jim and he have been away for that long and he doesn’t regret coming to ask Spock about this after processing all the information Wright gave him about the conversation with Dredd, but damn it, he’s pissed.
This wasn’t supposed to happen. He was never supposed to leave Jim alone. Hell, he never meant to but that makes little difference.
Jim has been on his own for 11 months while Bones sat on his ass, thinking like the fool he is it was only for a few days—days! It’s not even been 11 days for him and how is that fair—and then they’d be back to surfing the galaxy and running after Jim as he did one of his stunts.
“But he’s awake,” he makes himself say, “He’s out of the comma. He’s coming back soon.”
It’s not a question, but Spock nods as he adds, “The Captain is in no state for leaving the medical facility he’s in. He needs time for recovering. However, given to the different passage of time in our universes, he could return to the ship today.”
Chekov exclaims something cheerful about Jim returning to the Enterprise. Bones leaves the happy chatter to them and heads out of the bridge, jamming the button to Engineering once he’s inside the turbolift.
If Jim could be back any second now, literally, then he’s going to sit tight as close to him as he possibly can.
***
What he wouldn’t give for a sip of the Saurian brandy he keeps in his office. He wants to be at his best when Jim returns though and so does Scotty.
They sit in one of the transporter rooms and wait.
“That fella, Dredd, he’s you but from there, isn’t he?” Scotty comments conversationally, “You can never get bored on this ship.”
Bones sighs wearily. He usually finds that a blessing, because God knows living in the black is monotonous enough and it could drive a man crazy, but right now he’s only angry about it. “Apparently.”
“Jim managed to find you there too, that’s quite a feat,” Scotty says and now he sounds mildly impish, “I wonder what that says about you two.”
Bones is a grown man. He doesn’t blush. He just splutters. “Something you want to say, Mister Scott?”
Scotty doesn’t laugh at him. Bones wishes he did. The Scotsman seems frighteningly serious instead. “Oh, nothing. I trust you will handle things once he’s back,” he pauses, breaks into a grin, “Also, there may or may not be a certain poll about when you’re both going to—“
A poll. He snorts. “A bet, you mean,” he’s not even surprised. Or annoyed, for that matter, “I hope you bet on us.”
“Always.”
***
He’s not prepared for what follows. For all that his job prepares him to expect the worst and be ready to act consequently, he never considered—not even in his worst moments—that Jim wouldn’t want to come back.
Why wouldn’t he? Everything he loves is here—space to explore, his crew, his friends. Bones is here. Have the past months changed what Jim feels for him and for everything that means something for him?
“The ship is yours, Spock,” Jim says. He sounds strained, forced, downright sad and Bones can’t for the life of him understand what the fuck is going on in his head. Why is he abandoning them all if it’s the last thing he knows Jim would want to do? Why is Jim breaking his heart? “Treat her like a lady.”
“Put me through,” he snarls to Scotty. The Chief Engineer is quick as a wink in doing so and then it’s just him against a microphone, because Jim isn’t here for him to convince. Jim is over there and he’s not coming back. “Is this supposed to be some sort of sick joke, Jim? Because let me tell you, it isn’t one bit funny and I’m gonna kick your ass for it once you’re back.”
“Bones,” ah, that’s it, what he’s missed since Jim strayed. He’s not used to hearing it like it’s been punched out of Jim and left him breathless and wounded, but it’ll do. He still means the same to him, he knows it, feels it in his bones—pun sadly intended. “I—I can’t go back. It’s—complicated. I wish I could, I really—Bones, I—” there’s a world of things Jim isn’t saying and he’s choosing not to and that adds pain to what’s already excruciating, “Take care of yourself, okay? Kirk ou—”
He’s not hanging up on him like this. Not like this. “No, Jim! This communication isn’t over until you explain to me what the hell ‘I can’t go back’ means! You can go back; we’re here, waiting for you. I’m here! You can’t—“
“I’m sorry.”
God help him, he’s going to lose him. He is losing him. He never really had him and he won’t ever have him back. “Jim—“
With a beep, Jim is gone. He isn’t dead this time, but it hurts almost as much as it did when he was. Bones can’t move, can’t look anywhere, can’t speak. He just sits there, reeling, trying to find something to hold onto in this new arrange of things—a world, an universe without Jim—but failing.
Is he going to be able to keep his composure? He doesn’t know. He’s going to break down, whether it’s now or later, and he has to make himself—not whole, just functional again, somehow.
He’s not Bones anymore, but he’s still Leonard McCoy and he’s the C.M.O. of this vessel and he will do his job. He’ll turn his job into his life, like he’s always done.
“He’s staying there?” Wright comes into the room, winded, Uhura hot on his heels. With some seconds of delay, Spock charges in too. “Is he nuts? He really is.”
He can’t look at Wright. He’s like a breathing, walking, open wound; a limb that needs amputating. He just sits there in shock, grieving, and hopes no one comes closer to him and try to comfort him because he will lose it.
“Lad,” Scotty says tersely, “I think it’d be best if you make yourself scarce for a while.”
Wright stops by the door when the comm. comes back to life. “This is Dredd. Is anyone there?”
Uhura practically jumps over the console, stabs a button and answers. “This is the Enterprise. Uhura here. Is the Captain okay, Mister Dredd? Do you require something from us?”
“I need one of you to tell me how to make this machine work. I can send him back.” That has Bones raising his head.
She pauses, looks at him, then at Spock. He guesses they both give the same unspoken answer. “Sir, we were under the impression he’d made his own choice. Were we mistaken? He didn’t explain anything.”
“He did, but you got it wrong. He wants to leave. He doesn’t want to leave me. He thinks he needs to stay for me. I have to show him it’s okay for him to go.”
Bones straightens on his seat and once it clicks in his head, he stands up and waits next to Scotty as the man does his best to instruct Dredd in what he needs to do to transport Jim safely.
Dredd didn’t say much more than Jim did, but it makes sense. They’re together. Either romantically or not, Jim feels Dredd needs him more than they do back in the place he should be and that should make Bones mad, but he can’t bring himself to be.
He gets it. The Earth on the other side is as ugly as you can make it. There’s no hope there for anyone. And Jim—daring, wild, sweet Jim is nothing but hope. He can be the brightest light at the end of the darkest tunnel. Bones knows this at first-hand. He can get you back on your feet, keep you there and make it seem effortless. And he’ll be happy, oh, he’ll be happy alright as long as you stick around and let him, won’t ask for anything else than you simply stay.
How could he ever be able to leave someone he cares about behind?
Dredd probably has no one. If he’s anything like Bones he might have a past that haunts him and a job that consumes him and that’s it. He had nothing else, not until he met Jim.
“He loves you, McCoy,” he has to admire this man he doesn’t know. He wants to believe he’d be strong enough to let Jim go too, if roles were reversed, but he isn’t sure. It can’t be the same for the two of them. Bones’ whole universe revolves around Jim. He’s his center. And he’s Jim’s or he was, until he unwillingly left him and Jim probably forgot or couldn’t believe Bones needs him just as much as he does. “Take care of him.”
“I will,” no matter how hard it gets, he will always do, “Thank you.”
“This is the part where I go, right?” Wright smiles at them, gives Uhura a kiss on the cheek when she hugs him and winks at Spock, “You’ve got a great lady, Commander, see that you’re always enough for her.”
“Okay, stand back, I can’t promise nothing is going to pop,” Scotty warns them, snorting when neither of them takes a step back as Wright climbs onto the pad, giving Bones a nod. “Alright then, let’s see if we all blow up trying to get our Captain back.”
“I won’t forget you,” comes Jim’s voice, clear as crystal, and Bones pushes to the back of his mind all the questions he wants to make along with the sting that still lingers in his chest at knowing Jim was really going to carry on without him.
“I know. Go. Energize.”
The panel does burn a few fuses and starts smoking. Bones couldn’t care any less. Jim is here. He’s back.
He looks around, recognizes his ship, his friends and gives them a watery smile that’s at least half sincere. His breath catches when Bones takes a step to him, stopping barely below the pad. Then he crumbles and Bones is right there, ready to catch him. Jim makes a sound that’s more sob than laughter and holds him fast.
Bones keeps them both standing and grips him firmly, letting Jim’s stream of I’m sorry, I’m sorry wash down his pain as Jim hides his face in the crook of his neck.
Protocol can kiss his ass. He’ll check him in a minute.
Right now, they just need each other.
***
Even weeks after his return, Jim touches everything around him with reverence. He stands on the bridge near the main screen and stares quietly into the stars and it’s not only Bones who notices some parts of him got lost along the way, but a year is a long time and they all understand the transition has to be hard.
***
Their time apart is something they don’t discuss until a month has passed.
Jim has taken as a coping mechanism to read every single report that’s written on the ship and that keeps him busy many hours after he’s done with his shift. Bones doesn’t exactly approve of it, but when Jim is finally exhausted and dozing on his desk, surrounded with PADDs filled with data not even Spock bothers to read, he’s right there to tug Jim to bed and tuck him in.
Tonight is different. He goes to the Captain’s quarters earlier and catches Jim awake, squinting at what seems to be Medbay’s last inventory. Bones raises both eyebrows at him and Jim shrinks, clutching the PADD and avoiding his eyes like he’s both ashamed and sure his C.M.O. will scold him for what he’s doing.
He doesn’t. Sighing, he takes Jim by the elbow and leads him to the couch. He sits beside him, stretching his left arm until it’s behind Jim’s head, and nods at the tablet in his hand. “We could go over it together, if you want.”
Jim stares at him, dumbfounded, like he’s still waiting for his outburst of ‘Damn it, Jim, you should be resting! It’s 1 in the morning and that report is fine, I wrote it myself.’ When it doesn’t come, he looks down to the tiny screen and smiles briefly but genuinely and that’s all Bones wants, so he feels accomplished already.
“Could you read it to me?” Jim asks. His tone is small, hesitant and he winces after asking the Computer what time it is, “Never mind, that was a stupid question and it’s late. I’ll go to sleep, I swear.”
Bones grips his arm, keeps him in place as he takes the PADD from his hand and concedes. “It’s not long. I’ll make it quick. Now hush.”
By the time he’s half-way through, Jim is sound asleep on his shoulder. Bones rearranges them on the couch instead of trying to drag him to bed. He makes sure Jim is comfortable on his lap and watches him sleep, erases the lines of tension that appear every now and then on his pretty face with gentle fingers.
He ends up massaging Jim’s scalp, enjoying the smoothness of his hair. It keeps him from whatever nightmare he’s trying to skirt and Bones tells himself this is something he can indulge in.
This is the first time he feels Jim is okay with the fact that he needs Bones around and he wants it to last. He’s very capable of spending the night on the couch if he has to.
Until now, Jim insisted on giving him the same bullshit ‘I’m fine, Bones, I just got work to do’ he’s giving everyone else and he didn’t like it, but couldn’t push him to be honest before he was ready. Now that he’s not hiding from him, Bones thinks he might be.
There’s been a giant elephant in every room with them for too long.
When Jim blinks and his eyes fix on him as Bones’ hand is still on his hair, he decides it’s time. “Tell me about him.”
That wakes Jim up in about a millisecond. He doesn’t move from where he is, but he tenses and gapes at him. “What? Bones, I don’t think—”
“He’s important to you, Jim,” he says, resolute, “So I want to know about him.”
Jim gulps and straightens up. He rubs his eyes with both hands and assesses him, gauging whether Bones can take what he’s got to say or not. He meets his stare, steady, and apparently passes the test.
What he learns next leaves him speechless.
They were together, slept together, virtually lived together and Jim almost died saving him.
And yet Dredd let Jim come back to him, even though Jim was willing to stay with him, even though Jim loved—loves?—him.
Bones won’t make the mistake of comparing himself to Dredd. If he starts having those kind of doubts and insecurities now, before anything has even started between them, he might as well give up before ruining their friendship.
***
Sulu is Jim’s usual companion for shoreleave when they’re in a planet with mountains, cascades and all the exhilarating, crazy stuff they’re more than a bit obsessed with. Bones stopped trying to beat sense into their heads long ago and won’t start again now, so when he hears they’re going to yet another rocky planet he only hopes Jim can somehow avoid any grave injuries while Bones waits for him in a cabin.
He’s always known Sulu is a good man but when he comes to his office and hands him a PADD with the brochure of the best hike available, he’s still shocked.
“I think the Captain would appreciate your company,” the helmsman says, nonchalant, chortling when he sees Bones’ expression, “You do know how to climb, right, Doctor? I could give you a few lessons, if you—”
“Of course I know how to, Jesus Christ,” he cuts in, irritable but immensely grateful, “Thank you, Mister Sulu.”
Sulu beams at him. “Enjoy your shoreleave, Doctor.”
***
He’s picking the best location to start the hike and also checking which cabin is nearer to the end point when Jim comes into his room without chiming. It’s not something they did in the past, their boundaries always practically non-existent, but it’s the first time Jim has reverted to one of their old habits and it’s heartening, although no more than the wide grin on his face once he notices what Bones is doing.
“You’re really going with me?” he asks, awed, “Bones! I thought you hated heights—I know you hate heights!”
“Yeah, well,” he shrugs, “Turns out I hate having you out of my sight more. I’m going with you.”
“We don’t have to reach the top,” Jim offers after taking a glimpse at the diagrams on Bones’ computer, “We could stop here,” he points out, “Or here. And then—”
“Oh, none of that, “ he bats Jim’s hands away from the screen, glowers at him, “I’m the one planning this. We’re getting to the top.”
“Okay, okay,” Jim’s smile softens but lingers. He bumps their shoulders together, whispers a warm, “Thank you,” and Bones’ heart swells.
It’s taking a while, but they’re going to be okay.
***
The planet’s weather is cold and windy, but Jim acts like it’s a perfect sunny day to climb and his happiness is catching so Bones doesn’t complain much about the possibilities of getting frostbite or hypothermia and tries to enjoy the ride while making conscious efforts not to fall to his demise. The mountain is sloppier and steeper than it seemed in the holopictures and he’s just a passable climber so it’s a challenge for him.
He appreciates Jim keeps asking every once in a while if he wants to stop or head back, even if he barks he’s not a baby and he can do this every time he does.
The cord securing him to Jim tenses whenever he falters—Bones is trying, but he’s lacking the mountain goat spirit that seems to possess Jim as he ascends with no fear or hesitation whatsoever—but it’s not until he loses his footing that Jim gets yanked down and has to stop, clutching tooth and nail to the rocks as he supports both of their weights.
“Bones! Are you alright?” he shouts, once the pour of small pebbles and ice chucks stops, “Are you hurt?”
Bones grunts, spits dirt and ice out, “I’ll be fine once I’m not hanging in the air, Jim. A little help?”
Jim guides him to a safe spot and puffs once he can look down and see Bones is really fine. “Okay, listen, I think we need to move a little to the left. You didn’t fall because you were clumsy, Bones. We need to find a more stable path.”
Bones swears under his breath but goes along.
He doesn’t regret his call when he catches the familiar glint in Jim’s eyes he’s missed all this time.
***
When they finally make it to the top, it’s dark already.
The dusk in this planet passed in a rush of purples and oranges and now its five moons greet them from the sky. The only clouds are the ones of a perpetual lightning storm that’s miles away from where they are. The night is so quiet it still roars and threatens from that far, reminding Bones they’re not on Earth and that this is just an interval in their journey.
He can only pray they stay side by side for what’s to come.
He doesn’t realize he’s shivering until Jim speaks. “Bones, you’re freezing,” he moves, stretches his arms behind his back, “Let me—“
“So help me God, Jim, if you take off your jacket I will wrap you back in it and throttle you with it. It’s -22º here, you’re not staying in your goddamned shirt in this cold!”
“Wasn’t planning to,” Jim smirks at him, producing a sleeping bag from his backpack. Bones rolls his eyes, but he’s secretly delighted. Jim brought them a blanket. “Come on, scoot over.”
Jim opens the sleeping bag and tosses it over both of them, not being very subtle as he shoves Bones against a slope that partially shields him from the wind as Jim covers the other side with his body, snuggling against him as he keeps rummaging in his bag.
When he finally stops, he sulks. “Damn it, I knew this wasn’t going to stand the cold.”
Bones peeks at the thermos inside and shakes his head, gets an arm around where he assumes Jim’s waist is to comfort him. “Those things never really worked more than a few hours, Jim, and they were made for Earth. Don’t be a child. We can have hot cocoa once we’re on the ground. Been a while since I made some for us.”
Jim beams at him through lashes that are shimmering with frozen dampness and red cheeks probably numb with the beginnings of frostbite. The damn kid couldn’t keep his hood on not even half way up.
He pulls Jim’s hood up with both hands and lets out an annoyed huff. “I’m freezing? That’s funny, Jim, I’m not the one with ice on his face.”
“But I’m hot!” Jim whines, “I’m sweating under this thing, Bones.”
“Oh, okay, in that case I can give you a hypo for—”
“Alright, alright, have it your way. I can’t believe you brought hypos.”
***
He admits they stay longer than they should but they’re warm and comfortable and he’s more than a bit tempted to ask Jim to call the Enterprise and have them beamed to their cabin instead of taking the way down on foot.
He doesn’t. It’s dark, but the moons give a lot of natural light, and he’s sure Jim will find it hilarious if they both end up face-first on the dirt. He just hopes the bit in the pamphlet about the lack of fauna is actually true. If it’s not, it wouldn’t be the first time.
“Bones,” Jim says and he stills, turning to look at him from where he’s crouching and trying to fold the sleeping bag. It’s not the landscape what makes Jim look so beautiful in that moment, standing with a foreign sky and a colorful storm on his back, but it helps, “I need to tell you something. I—I wanted to tell you, back when I called from—from there, but I couldn’t do it that way. I needed to see you, I wanted—”
“Jim,” they can’t take their gloves off and it’s a shame, but it doesn’t matter. He takes Jim’s hands in his and stops his babbling with a squeeze, cupping his face from outside the hood before giving Jim’s chapped lips a little kiss. He can’t feel his own lips, but their warm breath combined is soothing, welcomed. There’ll be time for proper kissing later. “I know.”
I love you.
Bones won’t make him say it, not yet. He kisses Jim’s dazed expression; kisses his cheeks, his nose, his eyelids, his forehead. He kisses his forgiveness to his skin, asking for some for himself.
Jim clings to his neck, makes a wet sound in the back of his throat and somehow manages to bring the circulation back to their mouths, kissing his own understanding to Bones’ lips.
There, at the top of the world, Bones knows for sure.
They’re okay.
Mega-City One
“Okay, that’s all for today,” Alex announces to his class. He kneels and leaves another box with battered books about science fiction—since coming back, he discovered it’s their favorite subject and he indulges them, remembers space with fondness and just a tad of heartache—beside the one that’s filled with condoms on the table, “Come on, guys, don’t be shy and grab some. And don’t forget your homework!”
He smiles at them as they approach, watching through the corner of his eye as a familiar figure parks outside the old building they’re in. He tries to make it quick, but can’t really rush things when some of them open up and tell him the problems they’re having at home—if they have a home, that is.
There’s a little girl—she must be 14, at the most—who’s pregnant and swears up and down she used protection. Alex can do nothing but hug her, assuring her he believes her—sometimes contraceptive methods fail despite you did nothing wrong—and ask her to bring her parents in next time so they can break the news to them together. He doesn’t ask about the father. He’s got suspicions about who he is and he’ll deal with that kid later.
It breaks his heart, but at least she’s not 10. That was the average age of teenage pregnancy just a few years ago.
Things are getting better, little by little.
Once he’s done, he locks the room and goes out.
“Hey,” he greets Joe with a heated kiss, sighing against his lips as he puts his hands inside Alex’s back pockets and keeps him flushed to him as he leans back into his bike, “Sorry, that took longer than I thought.”
“Must be hard getting teenagers to understand the need of condoms,” Joe teases him, a deep laugh rumbling in his chest as Alex pouts and half-heartedly hits him.
“That’s not what I do.”
“I know,” he soothes, kisses him behind the ear before revealing, “Speaking of which, the Board wants to see you tomorrow.”
“Do they now?” Alex hums. He’s been meeting with the Chief Judge for over a year, getting her permission to run several educational activities in some districts of the city. The crime rates have been dropping steadily since then so he’s not exactly shocked about getting called, “I wonder if they think I’m a terrorist. You know them, Joe. They wouldn’t be calling me for a public execution, would they?”
“No,” his partner says dismissively and then adds, menacing, “Over my dead body.”
Alex makes a face, shoving Joe onto his bike and climbing behind him, curling up against his back, “Let’s try to avoid that, shall we? C’mon, let’s go home.”
“Alex,” Joe says, warningly, looking at him over his shoulder with a admonishing quirk on his mouth.
He laughs, putting on his helmet. “There,” he gives the side of Joe’s neck a kiss as the man puts on his own, “Happy?”
There are no words to confirm his answer. Joe squeezes the hands Alex has surrounding his middle and it’s enough.
Their world is imperfect, but they make it better for each other.
Together, maybe they’ll be able to make it better for everyone else, too.