Chapter Text
At the edge of lingering darkness, Jim could feel a returning heat.
His memory ignited before reality could, and something itched underneath his skin and contorted to burning in his recollection. His stomach twisted and brow became dappled with sweat as the world was distorted in his view, but somewhere through the haze in his mind he could hear alarms blaring - see a red light illuminating the world on the other side of the glass.
Glass… And the hand pressed to it.
Spock’s.
In a rush, Jim’s body propelled forward, eyes straining under the cool temperature of the hospital room lights.
He blinked away the bleariness as his vision adjusted to make out the white figure before him.
“Oh, don’t be so melodramatic, you were barely dead.” Jim blinked again at the sound of his doctor and one of his closest friends as he came closer with a tri-corder, waving it easily above his head. “It was the transfusion that really took its toll. You were in a coma for two weeks.”
Jim’s head throbbed. “Transfusion?” He croaked.
“Your cells were heavily irradiated. We had no choice.”
He shook his head, making sense of his memories in an instant. “Khan?” Jim asked as his voice strained, the singular word asking a multitude of questions.
“We synthesized a serum from his… super-blood,” Bones gestured. “Tell me, are you feeling homicidal, power-mad, despotic?"
Jim’s mouth quirked slightly. “No more than usual.”
Bones smiled lightly and stepped around to the console on the other side of the bio-bed, beginning to type.
Jim grunted as he turned his head to watch. “How’d you catch him?” He practically whispered.
“I didn’t,” Bones replied, glancing across the room to his side.
Jim followed his gaze to land on his formally dressed first commander - Spock.
The moment his shimmering blue eyes met the firm, centered ones of his counterpart, a wave of relief rushed over him.
“You saved my life,” Jim muttered to the Vulcan, voice shaking with emotion.
“I had something to do with it too, you know,” Bones added from his side.
The familiarity of the interaction made Jim cock a brow and humorously roll his eyes.
Spock straightened, and Jim noticed it seemed to take a little more effort than usual. “You saved my life, captain, and the lives of the crew,” he began, and Jim shook his head, interrupting the vulcan before he could continue.
“Spock, just… Thank you,” he sighed, feelings welling up behind his tired eyes.
The commander’s dark gaze softened and his shoulders relaxed slightly, the effect traveling down his arms to his hands, which fidgeted slightly at his side - an unusual sight. “You are welcome, Jim.”
The two of them stared at each other for a moment, and there were many more things the captain wanted to discuss with his commander. His heart ached at the memory of Spock’s tear stricken face, watching as he shrunk into the arms of death, and he wanted to hold his hand - properly this time, with no barrier in between.
Jim took a breath and instinctively began to reach for him when…
“Alright Jim, now that you’re awake, I’m going to need to complete a full physical evaluation,” Bones spoke again, sliding on a sterile pair of gloves. “Shouldn’t be too long - you need your rest,” he made a covert glance towards Spock.
The commander got the message. “Then I will take my leave,” he decided, folding his fingers inward to conceal them and inclining his head at the doctor. “Please inform me of any significant changes to the captain’s condition.”
Bones waved a hand. “Yeah, though there should be none of those - God willing,” he shook his head to himself, dismayed by the very thought, and Spock nodded in acknowledgement.
“I’ll will return another time,” Spock said softly, turning towards Jim who half smiled and pulled his arm back to himself as covertly as he could.
Spock nodded once more to him, perhaps as an act of reassurance before he finally turned and began for the door, arms folded neatly behind his back.
Jim almost let out a sigh once Spock had departed the room.
“Y’know,” Bones drawled after a beat, snapping off one glove and tossing it aside before reaching for another, “for a species that prides itself on emotional control, that man is doing a terrible job of pretending he doesn’t care whether you live or die.”
Jim huffed out a weak breath, something like a smile ghosting across his face. “You don’t think he’s just doing his duty as first officer?” He joked.
Bones shot him a look. “If that’s what you want to call hovering outside sickbay every day for twelve hours straight, arguing with me about your vitals like he suddenly got his medical degree overnight.”
Jim’s brow lifted faintly. “Twelve hours?”
“Give or take,” Bones muttered, stepping closer and shining a light briefly into Jim’s eyes. “Hold still.”
Jim obeyed, his chest tightening at the thought of Spock standing outside his room for hours on end as if his presence could protect him from the radiation poisoning he had already suffered.
After a moment, Bones placed down his instrument and moved on to check his pulse. “He only leaves for briefings with the admiralty and occasionally to eat, and I’m sure he only does that much because it’s a requirement for keeping himself upright.” He shook his head. “Stubborn doesn’t even begin to cover it.”
Jim swallowed and tilted his head back, closing his eyes.
“Well… he thought I was dead,” he said quietly, oversimplifying Spock’s devotion to him.
Bones paused for half a second before continuing the exam. “Yeah,” he said, softer now. “Well, for a while you were.”
Jim’s mind wandered back to the radiation chamber. Spock wasn’t the only one on the other side of that glass.
He knew Scotty was nearby, and he couldn’t assume that no one else had followed and witnessed his final moments first hand.
Jim sighed at the thought.
Bones cleared his throat, deliberately shifting the mood as he reached for the tricorder again. “Alright, enough of that,” he said. “All that matters is now you’re intact again. Annoyingly so, thanks to our resident genetically-engineered nightmare.”
He waved the tricorder slowly over Jim’s torso, eyes scanning the readings. “Cellular regeneration is still stabilizing… radiation damage looks like it’s reversing cleanly…” He frowned slightly. “I’ll want a full panel of blood work just to be sure nothing decides to go sideways later.”
Jim groaned. “No more needles, Bones.”
“You died, Jim,” Bones shot back. “You get all the needles.”
Jim let his head fall back against the pillow, too tired to argue properly. “You’re enjoying this.”
“Immensely.”
Bones moved around the bed, efficient and practiced, checking reflexes, monitoring readouts, occasionally muttering to himself under his breath. The motions were familiar and comforting in a way. The only difference between this and his usual medical interactions with Bones was that Jim couldn’t resist treatment.
And for once, he didn’t feel like he’d want to.
Finally, Bones stepped back, tapping a few final commands into the console.
“Alright,” he said after a moment. “Everything that matters looks stable. Labs have been ordered - the works. We’ll keep an eye on you, so do me a favor and make rest a priority.”
Jim made a face at that. “How long until I’m out of here?”
“Jesus, Jim. You just woke up. It’s a little too soon to think about getting discharged,” Bones replied exasperatedly.
The captain shrugged slightly and there was a brief pause as Bones looked him over one more time, something quieter settling into his expression.
“…You gave us a hell of a scare, Jim,” he said, not quite meeting his eyes.
Jim didn’t answer right away - he didn’t regret what he did, but he hated seeing the pain it caused.
“Well… I’m still here,” he said finally, voice soft.
Bones nodded once. “Yeah,” he said. “You are.”
He reached over, dimming the lights slightly with a tap of the panel.
“Get some rest,” he added.
Jim let out a slow breath, the tension in his body easing as the brightness softened around him and Bones made to leave the room.
His body was so tired that only a few moments of silence elapsed before he fell into a fitful sleep.