Bones Can't Fix This by AndromedaMarine

You're Not Spock

Kirk gives the doctor an exasperated expression, then eyes the hypospray Bones has in his hands. "No, no, no, Bones. Last time I really wanted to kill you."

"With any luck you'll want to kill me again," the doctor comments, not even batting an eyelash. He takes another step towards the captain, who's sitting on the edge of a sick bay table. He lifts the hypospray.


"Jim, you're the most sensitive person I've met when it comes to mandatory medical attention. You wouldn't even tell me when you cracked your skull open after tripping over your own feet." He sighs, giving Kirk the same look he always does when it comes to the captain's health.

The captain stares Bones in the eye, unwisely taking his attention off the hypospray, intent on protesting the doctor's comment.

Bones seizes the chance, and stabs the spray against Jim's neck before he can react. He pulls away, a smirk slowly creeping onto his sharp features. "That wasn't so bad, Jim, was it?" He looks down at a tray beside the table.

Kirk emits a low grumble, one that sounds close to "ask me next year." He rubs the spot on his neck. "Dammit, Bones, that hurt."

Bones frowns, and turns to look at him. "You sound like a five year old, Jim. Grow up. You're the captain of Starfleet's favorite, relatively legendary and famous flagship. Act like it."

Jim bites back a remark Bones would only brush off. It's Jim who would regret saying it. You're a doctor, not a mind reader. Not a Vulcan. Not Spock. Jim rubs his neck, the day-old stubble scratching against his palm. Spock knows Jim has that reckless edge to him, and after the mind meld with Spock Prime, Jim wonders if his Spock has the same rush he did. The same rush of overwhelming emotion that goes hand in hand with a mind meld.

Bones doesn't get it, Jim thinks. He doesn't get that the recklessness is his coping with seeing that field of Starfleet debris around Vulcan. It's Jim's way of reacting to the void in his chest once filled by friends, acquaintances, on the Farragut, the Mayflower, and all the other starships lost in the black hole. There aren't even any bodies to bury. Jim gives the red spot on his neck one last rub, then jumps off the table.

The doctor crosses his arms. "And where do you think you're going?"

"Bridge," Kirk replies, and takes a step forward. He wobbles on his feet. "What the hell did you give me, Bones?"

"Sleep-inducing medication mixed with some vitamins and vaccines that you're way overdue on. You don't sleep, Jim."

"It's the damn nightmares. But I don't need sleep meds for it, doc!" Jim tries to take another step to the door, but Bones catches him as he collapses.

He heaves Kirk's half-limp body onto one of the beds, sighing. "You need rest, Jim."

"I need to report for duty," Jim mumbles, his hand clenched in a tight grip over the sleeve of McCoy's uniform. "I need to ask Sp..." he drifts off, falling completely asleep. His hand falls from the doctor's arm, and Bones stands over him, frozen.

What was the captain going to say about Spock? What did he want to ask the Vulcan? Bones studies the sleeping captain, then shakes his head, pulling the blanket over the now-peaceful body.

It's only Kirk's third week as official captain of the U.S.S. Enterprise.

And Bones wonders about the captain.