This is my first Fan Fiction. It has cursing, violence, and male/male relationships. If you do not like any of those things than please do not read it.

I do not own Star Trek and make no money from this. I'm just playing. I also seem to take an obscenely long time to update… Sorry.

Chapter 22

Jim let his head fall back to rest on the wall as he waited for the nurse to finish scanning his hands, for the third time, and wondered where Bones had gone.

Things had spiraled out of control the second they had arrived in Med-bay. One of the nurses Jim didn't know had waved Bone to the side and whispered to him. Bones had responded by cussing loudly and snapping out orders to get Jim and Pike in quarantine and checked over before he got back. The doctor had then rushed away, presumable to get out of his bio-containment suit, and Jim was ushered in the back room with Pike and the Transporter teck.

He had seen McCoy rushing around through the isolation room's window before one of the nurses had spotted him watching and turned the glass opaque. The last thing Jim had seen was McCoy running out the door, nearly tripping over the decontamination crew as he went.

Half and hour had passed since then, but the doctor had still not returned. At lest he had not come in the Isolation room to talk to Jim, and had therefore left Jim to the less then tender care of a strained and clearly sleep deprived nurse.

The wait felt far longer then was possible. At first Jim had tried to distract himself with all the things his crew were most likely doing at the moment, but it only made him feel restless. He wanted to be on the bridge helping out. If he were there he would be able to run a full systems analysis of the transporters to find out how the nanites got through there filters without being detected. Instead he had to trust that Chekov was on it.

He didn't even have his Comm. link because of the threat to the systems if the nanites infected it so he couldn't even listen in as Uhura and Rand relayed information over the open frequencies.

It might have been the first time since he had made captain that neither he nor Spock were on the bridge during a crises.

Instead, he was trapped in a small room with nearly a dozen others; some locked in their own incubator-shelled-isolation bunks, while others waited silently, and nurses in bio-containment suits ran scans and shuffled people here and there. Jim didn't even know if the ship was safe for the moment as he sat uselessly waiting for his best friend to come back so he could find out if his lover was still in surgery or had been moved into recovery. He didn't allow himself to think of a third option.

To top it all off his body seemed to think he needed large and extremely painful blisters over the palms of his hands and up his wrists and a cold empty feeling was curling, viselike, around his chest, until he felt like he should be gasping for breath despite knowing that his lungs were working perfectly.


Jim blinked open eyes he didn't remember closing and looked up at the nurse, a different one to the one who had been scanning him just seconds ago, who was standing beside his bunk.

"What is it?" Jim asked, his voice a dry croak. He hadn't relised that he was thirsty until that moment, but it didn't seem worth bothering with so he pushed it aside for the moment.

"Doctor Boyce has asked me to offer you a sleep aid, sir," the nurse said as he held up a hypo.

"Has that stuff been cleared by McCoy?" Jim asked, eyeing the hypo warily.

"I don't know sir, I would need to leave isolation to check the Doctors computer records…"

"Don't bother," Jim said as he waved the nurse away, "I'll just do some deep breathing or something. Go take care of the others, I'll be fine."

"If you insist, but I will be nearby if you change your mind, sir."

"I'll be fine," Jim said again.

The nurse nodded, clearly not believing him in the slightest, but moved away to tend to someone else.

Jim watched him bend over one of the others before closing his eyes and counting backwards from one thousand in Klingon.

Jim was jolted from a light sleep by the sound of the Isolation room door hissing open to let in a quietly cussing CMO.

"Bones," Jim staggered as he jumped off his bunk and ran to the other or tried to. His leg gave out as soon as he put any weight on it and he ended up on the floor by the doctor's feet instead, but he hardly felt the pain as his heartbeat spiked with worry. The older man's face was pale and he had dark circles under his eyes. "What's wrong? Is Spock…"

He couldn't finish his question as a ball of fear clawed up his throat.

"God Jim! Breathe!" Bones growled as he knelt beside his Captain, "Spock is fine! Well, he's alive… He lost a lot of blood and we had to get donors for him, but he is out of surgery and stable."

"Oh god…" Jim moaned and leaned against his friend knee as the words slowly sunk in, "How much blood? When can I see him?"

"Enough to be a bit of a worry and not until you are free of nanites," Bones said as he brushed one gloved hand over Jim's cheek, wiping off a thin sheen of sweat Jim had not noticed. "So get back in your bunk and let me look you over so we can get on with it."

"Right," Jim said weakly as he let himself be push and pulled until he was sitting on the edge of his bunk.

"What have you done to your hands?" Bones grumbled as he started waving his tricorder around, scanning Jim's arms from fingertip to elbow and back.

"I didn't do anything Bones," Jim groaned as the doctor pressed on one of the painful blisters before running another scan. He was feeling lightheaded as the iron taste of panic pooled in the back of his mouth, "I think it's some sort of allergic reaction to that goo you poured over my hands… But never mind that. Why are you so pale? Did something happen with Joanna?"

Bones grimaced at his daughter's name, but shook his head, "No Jojo is fine. She is in isolation with her class in one of the shielded rooms on Deck Nine. No, the problem was worse than that." Bones sighed and started running another scan over Jim's hands, "The good news is I do know why Pike's nanites didn't take him over. The bad news is that his CMO was completely out of her mind. She was using the cluster of microfilaments in his back to grow and harvest nanites. She was storing them in hypo vials she had hidden… well… not to be crass or anything, but she literally hid them up her ass."

"That would be hilarious if it wasn't so fucking creepy," Jim noted as the doctor started a fourth scan over his hands, "Why was she collecting nanites? And how did our scanners not find them when she teleported over?"

"Apparently she was planning to infect every ship they encountered with enough nanites to fully turn their crews into Borg within a few hours," Bones muttered distractedly as he started a fifth scan of Jim's hands, "she was raving about 'giving into the inevitable' and how we would all be 'better off' as Borg when security ejected her out of an airlock; on Uhura's orders, just so you know. I don't have the slightest idea how she got then passed the transporter fitters, but I'm sure Scotty or Chekov is looking into it."

"I'll have to be sure Uhura gets some reward. Double rations maybe? If I can arrange it, that is." Jim nodded as he watched McCoy do yet another scan of his hands, "Is it bad that I'm happy I didn't have to deal with that? And what are you doing? That's the sixth scan you've run in less than a minute. Is something wrong?"

"I don't know," Bones sighed, "I'm getting some odd readings. Hold on."

Jim watched as the older man turned to talk to a nurse, who nodded before walking out of the room.

"I'm going to need a few supplies to run more tests on this," he waved one gloved hand over Jim's blistered and gel-incrusted hands. "In the mean time, what the hell did you do to your leg?"

"I hurt it when I was sparring with Spock, remember?" Jim said slowly. If Bones was forgetting Jim's injuries than he was worse then he looked, which was saying something as the older man looked dead on his feet.

"Not the torn hamstring, which you have re-torn and undone all my hard work from before," Bones growled. "No I got that one. But you have several burns over the top of you're thigh; mostly small first degree burns but a few second and third degree burns that I didn't see earlier. How did that happen and when? Did I scan your legs in the transporter room and miss it or did it happen after you got here?"

"It happened on the Bridge," Jim shrugged. The burns hurt like hell, and they seemed small so not worth any attention too, but he knew Bones would bug him about it if he didn't tell him everything he could remember. "The comm. unit in my chair is broken; sent sparks all over my legs when a link closed. I don't remember you scanning my legs in the transporter room, but I can't be sure."

"Oh good, I'm missing things… shit, this happened to Spock when he was in command. When you lost your finger," Bones muttered darkly as he carefully poked the hardened gel covering Jim's left hand before turning back to his injured leg. "The hobgoblin didn't even mention he was hurt until after you were… Anyway, I'm going to have to cut your pants to get to the wounds," Bones muttered distractedly as he waved his tricorder over the burns a second time. "Hold still."

"Hold on!" Jim spluttered, "Can't I just take them off?"

"No. Some of them are scabbed into the fabric and I don't want you damaging yourself any more than you already have." Bones snapped as he started carefully cutting Jim's sweatpants around the singed holes in the fabric.

"These were my last pair of sweats, Bones," Jim sighed as closed his eyes "Do you know how long the waiting list for new clothes is?"

Bones ignored the question as he stared pulling burned fabric from the small wounds and complained quietly about contamination and the rate of infection in burned tissue.

Jim let the familiar grumbling soothe him as he let the doctor work. The pain was manageable for the moment. He didn't know what kind of tests Bones was hoping to run, but he doubted they would be painless.

The sound of the door hissing announced the nurse's return with what Jim guessed were the test supplies. Jim kept his eyes closed. He didn't want to see what was going on outside. He didn't know if he could control the desire to look for Spock if he saw the door open for him. And he did not want to see what Bones was going to do. He would even welcome pain if it managed to distract him from worrying about what was happening elsewhere on his ship.

Spock wouldn't be awake yet, anyway, so it shouldn't matter that he couldn't sit by his bedside and he trusted his crew to take care of the ship with out him, mostly.

Still it was cold comfort as Bones did something that sent a wave of pain racing out from a spot just above his elbow.

"What was that, Bones?" Jim yelped, refusing to look in case he had some huge bit of medical equipment sticking out of his arm. He took it all back; he didn't want pain as a distraction after all. "It hurt!"

"Just a numbing agent, should take effect in a second."

The doctor was right as a odd tingling replaced the pain and was almost immediately followed by a numbness so complete he wasn't sure his arm was even still there.

"Right," Jim mumbled he suddenly tilted off balance.

"And that would be the sedative," Bones' voice echoed from oddly far away. "Sweet dreams kid."

AN: I am the worse Bunny ever! Well, not really, but I am sorry it took me so long to get this chapter out. Logan was pretty ambivalent about this chapter. He even really liked it for a little bit before hating ever part of it and making me rewrite it seventeen times. Anyway, I'm on some new drugs that are supposed to help with my bell jar problem and it's taking some time to get the dosage right… fun stuff… I will try to get the next chapter out this century... Sorry again.