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As You Sow So Shall You Reap
By Anne Higgins
Leonard H. McCoy died in a shuttle crash the summer before his first semester at Ole Miss. Five survived – although two would later die from their injuries – but thirty-eight other souls perished with him, including his parents and his fiancé, Jocelyn. Of course, they never married, never had a child and never saw their marriage disintegrate beneath the strain of choices Leonard made about ending his father's long, agonizing death. He did, however, report for classes on the first day of the semester.
Back in the day the story would have occupied the news cycle for at least a week if not longer. But the media had finally matured away from distasteful sensationalism, and merely reported an initial error in the story – six had survived the initial crash. Not an unheard of occurrence given the number of charred broken bodies, but an unusual one. Somehow Leonard had ended up at a different medical center, one dealing with victims of a major fire, and it took some time to identify him as part of the other disaster. Not that anyone really remembered him, but no one would admit that. The story was embarrassing enough as it was. But the hospital administrator consulted the records and noted that yes, Leonard had been admitted with severe burns and multiple broken bones.
Even with the finest medical facilities available, he had – again according to the records -- required extensive plastic surgery that forever altered his appearance. (Those who had known him before quietly believed him even more handsome, if slightly older looking, than before, then flushed in shame for such a tactless thought) He also suffered some brain damage resulting in memory gaps that never closed. It made it easier on everyone when he opted never to come home again, selling the family house at the end of his first year.
Despite this, he excelled at Ole Miss, testing out of many of his undergraduate classes and finishing his pre-med major in less than two years. Med school followed and he quickly gained the reputation as the most talented surgeon the university had produced in centuries. For a few years, he worked in the ER of the largest hospital in Atlanta, Georgia, then he resigned and headed to Riverside, Iowa and a shuttle ride to Starfleet Academy.
He had the time to appear as polished and ready for a new adventure as all the other cadets on board, but he showed up unshaven and looking both hungover and on his way to another bout of drunkenness. Now a loner by preference, he came up with the perfect plan and hid out in the shuttle fresher until the inevitable flight attendant forced him out and into a seat next to some kid who looked about as worse for wear as he did. It gave him a moment's pause, then he got the plan back on track. He started ranting about the evils of space, then, when the darned fool kid tried to comfort him, he snarled his way through a story about the ex-wife getting everything but his bones in the divorce.
It was all designed to keep everyone well away from the crazy drunk, who had done something so awful that a judge had awarded more than half of anything to an ex-wife in this day and age. Except the kid – James Tiberius Kirk (yes, related to that Kirk) – didn't stay away. Instead he somehow got someone to assign them as roommates and dubbed him 'Bones.'
The irony of the nickname amused him so, instead of scowling and snapping at anyone who tried to use it, he encouraged it until almost everyone called him Bones. After the first year he even started introducing himself to most by saying, "Leonard McCoy, call me Bones." Jim cracked a few jokes about it being like giving a newborn a name, and again the irony amused him as much as his relationship with Jim puzzled him.
Somehow, despite his best efforts to stop it, Jim became his best friend, then his lover one night a few months in when he simply crawled into Bones' bed and demanded he get with the program and fuck him. That night led to others and when the nights together started rivaling the nights apart, Bones requested one large bed to replace their two singles. And one drunken night (Jim, not him. He actually couldn’t get drunk, but that was probably the biggest secret of all) during their second year, in a desperate attempt to cool things down, he admitted the truth about the non-existent ex-wife, then mentioned the shuttle accident. He told Jim to look it up if he were curious, but he didn't want to talk about it. Jim snorted and raised a toast to 'I hear that.' And yeah, okay, Jim had his own pain he didn't want to talk about. So a lie that should have driven apart this rapidly deepening … relationship turned into a bonding moment. Before he knew it, several nights became most nights, and he found himself in love.
He fought it, but Jim was a force that could not be denied. Not even a crazed genocidal Romulan from the future had conquered him. But it did almost prove Bones' undoing. Instinctively, he avoided Ambassador Spock after Enterprise returned to Earth. Unfortunately, the old Vulcan proved equally determined to seek him out. Finally, he surrendered, and went to his room. Fuck, but he'd been right – he could tell that the moment the Ambassador looked at him. A mind meld was the only thing that got Bones out of the room with his life intact. That and a promise to tell Jim the truth, but only when it, inevitably, became absolutely necessary as he saw no reason to hurt Jim before then.
To his relief the Ambassador agreed, and even took to calling him Bones the few times they met up, saving him from several rounds of 'Six Degrees from the Kelvin' as people tried to figure out why a nickname only Jim had used in one timeline became common usage in this one.
The answer was simple enough – it was the wrong question. Instead, the game should revolve around what about the Kelvin's destruction had caused Leonard McCoy and his family to die? And, in that other timeline, whose life had John Grimm stolen?
*
"Bones," he moaned over and over again. Gonna die if he couldn't come. Gonna die if this ever stopped. Torture. Heaven. Don't stop. Bones. Gotta come. Bones. Bones. Bones. "Bones!" he came with a scream of protest, a howl of ecstasy, then sagged into a euphoric bliss that left him with barely enough strength to keep hold of his lover.
Two more thrusts and Bones spilled his own release deep into Jim's body, the soft sigh of "Jim" a puff of breath against his throat. For a moment neither of them moved, then Bones' arms tightened around him, lifting him even as Bones sat back into his chair, bringing Jim down to sit on his lap, his cock still sheathed in Jim's ass.
Jim managed to shift his legs to drape over the chair arms, then snuggled close, enjoying the texture of Bones' uniform tunic pressing against Jim's naked chest. Felt so wanton like this, so totally owned, so thoroughly fucked stupid.
Bones kissed him, caressed him, but after a few minutes Jim knew he also had gone back to the report reading Jim had interrupted when he'd barged into Bones' office announcing he was bored, bored, bored. And his sexy CMO so knew that was code for 'fuck me now!'
It got him the expected eyeroll and a mutter of 'some of us are busy.' Jim had smirked and instead of going the usual route of pouting until Bones gave in, he had simply stripped, because if he had learned nothing else in the four years they'd been lovers, he knew Bones couldn't resist a naked Jim Kirk.
Having reaped spectacular benefits from his tactics, Jim sat there purring, pampered and impaled for a good ten minutes or so before Bones finally shifted and his cock fell free of Jim's body. He lifted his head fixing his lover with a glare, then pouted. Hadn't been remotely ready for a Bones' free ass.
"Over-indulged brat," Bones murmured, then kissed him. It led to other things.
An hour later, sated from the tips of his toes to the top of his head, Jim sauntered onto the bridge, then grinned to find Uhura, Spock, Sulu and Chekov all checking their duty stations. These four on the bridge, Scotty and Gaila in engineering, Bones in sickbay – every one of the 400 members of his crew was important to Jim, but the seven of them were his family. Knowing they were all on board gave him the moronic feeling of all stations ready, ship ready to depart. Bullshit, he knew it, but he felt it.
"Captain," Spock greeted him. "Forty members of the crew have returned from shore leave." Jim could almost catch a hint of disapproval in his first officer's voice. Perhaps Spock also had the feeling it was time to go. Jim smiled to himself. Or maybe he disliked having so many beaming aboard a full day before they were scheduled to leave Starbase One.
He nodded and dropped into his chair, then picked up his PADD. Reports. Damned things never ended. Anyone did anything more than breathe and it required a report. And even when Jim didn't need to sign off on it, there were few of the damned things that he didn't feel like he should read. Made for a lot of boring hours. Fortunately, he had Bones to distract him whenever he felt like he'd lose his mind. He decided to give it another two hours, then he'd declare a moratorium on unscheduled duty time so they could all kick back and enjoy each other's company before other responsibilities intruded.
"Captain," Uhura cut into his thoughts. "Admiral Pike is requesting permission to beam aboard and a meeting with senior staff."
What the heck?
*
He stepped out of the turbolift, then raised an eyebrow at the sight of Admiral Pike chatting with Jim. In his experience brass and unexpected summonses did not usually lead to good things.
"Doctor," Pike greeted him with a smile and the offer of his hand.
Genuinely fond of the ship's former captain, Bones shook his hand without hesitation. "It's good to see you, sir."
"Good to be seen," Pike answered. "And on my feet. Both conditions I owe to you."
No point in denying it, but no need to brag about it either. He smiled and nodded to acknowledge the gratitude. All standard Patient Relations 101.
Bones had been the last to arrive, so pleasantries all exchanged, Pike got straight to the point. "Sorry to cut your shore leave short, but a situation has come up that Starfleet needs handled with skill and discretion."
Jim nodded, and it was a testament to how much he'd grown as both an officer and a diplomat that he didn't preen at the compliment. Boy got they were about to be dumped into some deep shit.
Pike sighed. "For some time Starfleet had been concerned about the President's ties to Union Aerospace Corporation."
No.
"Unfortunately, despite our best attempts to persuade him otherwise, he has agreed to allow UAC to reopen the Olduvai Research Facility on Mars."
Fucking hell! The mention of the UAC had given Bones enough of a warning to keep silent, but inside he exploded with anger. No matter how otherwise incompetent, for 212 years every single government of first the United States, then Earth, had kept Olduvai off limits. Should have known it was too good to last.
"Olduvai? I've never heard of it," Jim admitted.
"No reason you should," Pike told him. "No one outside of the highest ranks of government, Starfleet or the UAC has known it still exists for more than 100 years." He sighed. "It was an archeological site and research facility centered around a form of teleportation technology dubbed the Ark. Best kept secret of that century, but for twenty years scientists were popping back and forth between Earth and Mars. In 2046, the Ark malfunctioned and things went to hell." He shook his head. "Literally, according to some."
Bones kept his hands at his side, his palms flat and stiff as he struggled not to clench his fists, to give no sign he'd heard any of this before. To not give away by the slightest quirk of an eyebrow that he and his twin sister had made most of it up to emphasize the danger while keeping what he had become hidden.
Given how shook up they'd both been in the aftermath coupled with Sam's injuries, it was a miracle they could even think, let alone plot, but, as he listened to Pike's briefing, Bones decided they'd done a pretty good job of it. Story went that the Ark had caused a rift and some creature out of a nightmare had invaded the facility. It ate some victims, turned others into things like itself, then managed to escape to the Earth-side facility. Before it, and those it created, could break the quarantine seals, the Rapid Response Tactical Squad eliminated the threat, and destroyed the Ark on the Martian side of things. Unfortunately, the commander of the RRTS had snapped under the strain and killed everyone – threat or not. Only John and his sister had escaped with their lives, and Sam had been badly hurt.
A flood of memories made him lose track of the briefing. Sam's injuries had been the only thing that had kept the military from throwing John's ass in the stockade. Even then enough considered the story a possible cover for cowardice that he was forced to resign. Which suited him fine. He'd walked away from the military without a backward glance, and had worked in biogenetics or medicine ever since. One of the reasons McCoy was such a phenomenal doctor was that John Grimm had spent years perfecting the skills in almost every branch of medicine that existed plus created a few on his own. The rest was a brain that could no longer forget anything and the genius-level intelligence both he and Sam had inherited from their parents. Fortunately, this also helped him figure out how to hack any system necessary to create a new identity or to take over one someone was no longer using.
"The Earth facility was incinerated to cover up the evidence of what happened," Pike said, drawing his attention back to the briefing. "The families of the survivors were paid off and threatened to keep them quiet which let the whole thing vanish off the books." He sighed. "Except the UAC never forgot. Every few decades their board of directors tried to get the go ahead to reopen the Mars site, and they've finally succeeded. In eight hours, a cargo ship full of scientists and other civilian personnel leaves for Mars. They'll set up a Terra forming station and crack the seal on Olduvai."
The Admiral shook his head. "Trouble is we have no way of knowing if the Mars rift actually closed or what the life span is for the creature or creatures that came through. Or even if there really were creatures instead of some other threat the Grimms decided to cover up."
"You want us to check it out," Jim said.
Pike nodded. "Check it out and, if need be destroy it, before it can take the lives of any more civilians. And it has to be done before any UAC personnel arrive. Because once they do, it is a civilian operation and Starfleet will have no jurisdiction to act."
And it had to be done in secret or the President might order them to stand down before the job was done. God fucking damnit, Bones hated politics and idiots. He stood back and listened as the brainstorming began. Jim Kirk was the love of his very long life; the people gathered round him were good friends – hell, family, in a way no one had been since his sister had died; and, if nothing else, Bones would be damned before he'd let a single person die to keep his secret. But the reports he'd given after the disaster – beyond the fabrication of what had caused it – had been extremely accurate. And humanity had encountered many alien races with longer life-spans than Bones' current age, so no one was assuming time had taken care of the problem. For the moment, he could see no reason for John Grimm to enter the conversation, so Bones held his peace.
Jim, Spock and Sulu would each lead a team of whatever security personnel had had the poor judgment to spend the last day of leave on the ship. Scotty could easily beam them to just outside the surface entrances, but the rest of the facility had heavy shielding in place that would prevent direct beaming. "In any case, given the state things must have been in after such a fire fight, I would nae recommend blind transport," he said.
Gaila nodded her agreement, then said, "I could shut down the shielding and set up a booster relay. It should let us get a lock for a fast getaway."
"Aye, that might work," he agreed, although he looked less than thrilled at the prospect of his Orion second-in-command heading for Mars. But one had to stay, and Scotty's wizardry with the transporters made him the logical one to stay behind. And with Chekov to assist him, Bones had not doubts they'd find a way to beam out anything they got the faintest lock on. Which brought up a point.
"You'll need to watch the biofilters, Scotty," he said. "No injured personnel should be extracted without my say so." Bones knew what to look for with his eyes, but he had no idea how a mutating or mutated crewman would scan. Which meant he had to check out anyone requesting a beam out before they could risk it. No matter what the delay might cost.
Everyone gave him a look that conveyed various levels of surprise. It was the right call, but apparently not one they had expected from Bones. Maybe he should have let someone else point it out and argued against it to stay more in character, but he was a 245 year-old man, not a fucking superhero with a secret identity to protect. He raised an eyebrow. "I am the only one from medical currently on board. It wouldn't do much good to beam the injured back to the ship without me."
He saw it flicker in Jim's eyes – the desire to stop him from going, to keep Bones safe. For a moment, Bones wondered if the time had come, because there was no way in hell he was staying behind, but the captain held his tongue. John Grimm stayed in the past.
*
Sulu checked the centuries old controls. They responded instantly, air flooding the tiny space. A'bar checked the scanner, then nodded. Breathable. They all stowed their breathers in their belts, then drew their phasers. The red kill light flashed on each one of the weapons. "Once to the heart, once to the head," Jim reminded everyone, then signaled for Klein to crack the inner door.
*
He shifted back a step, putting Gaila between him and Spock. He would have preferred to take point or guard the rear flank, but neither position was one the Vulcan would allow the CMO. Already he was beginning to regret keeping his secret. He glanced at the two security officers behind him. Tsing and the jackass who would forever be known as Cupcake to anyone who had encountered both him and Jim during the early days at the Academy. Both men had been part of the group of four who had attacked Jim in an Iowa bar. They'd insisted it was to protect Uhura, but her testimony before the discipline board had made it clear she had neither needed nor wanted their help. They'd just thought it would be fun to beat the shit out of a cocky local. One of them – the ape who'd repeatedly punched Jim in the face after he'd gone down – had been summarily dismissed from the Academy. The other three had received reprimands which had resulted in graduating with a lower rank than their classmates. But they had all excelled in their specialty during the next three years, earning a place on Enterprise.
Jim had allowed them to stay when he'd taken command, telling Bones he'd rather have them where he could keep an eye on them, but it made Bones uneasy. And never so much as now. No, he couldn't be certain of the genetic markers that made a person a potential creature versus dinner, but he had known the two members of his old squad who the creatures had tried to mutate into one of their own. Portman had been a slimy, trash-talking ass, while Goat had used his religion as a sledgehammer as a bludgeon against both himself and others. In a word, bullies. And in Bones' opinion, that fit the two men guarding his back. Worse, their buddy, Young, was with Jim. Not Bones' choice for allies, and, a good bet they were all potential creatures.
They moved forward, five figures dressed alike and difficult to distinguish in the dim light. Standard covert ops uniform – non-reflective metal communicator insignia and a black duty shirt that looked and wore like cloth, but was actually tougher than any flak jacket John Grimm had ever worn. His hand tightened on his phaser, his mind telling him it was far more powerful than even the BFG weapon Sarge had found, but he missed the feel of his modified G36.
*
Night-vision goggles – about the size and shape of old style sunglasses – bit through the gloom surrounding them, and he did not like what he saw. At first glance it looked like the door of the Ark Chamber had been blown out when the grenade exploded. But the remains of the door lay in a crumpled heap nearby and they told a different story. "Spock, Sulu," he said softly, mindful of giving away positions, but deeming the information worth the risk.
"Captain," they both acknowledged.
"Something ripped the chamber door off and tossed it aside. Burn marks say it happened after the explosion."
"Survivor." Spock liked stating the obvious.
"Yeah, a big, strong one," Jim muttered. "Question is, it still around?"
"Understood," they echoed each other again.
He did not ask about Bones. Did not tell Spock to look after him. But he wanted to. Just like he wanted Bones with him, but if something big and nasty did haunt these halls, Jim knew Spock had a better chance against it. So he'd given him charge of both non-combatants. A logical decision, but it was driving him nuts not being able to reach out and reassure himself Bones was okay.
At his nod, the three men slipped into the ruins of the Ark Chamber. Nothing but charred rubble remained. Easy to dismiss old tech, but the grenades of the middle 2000s apparently packed quite a punch. "Energy readings?"
Soft sound of a tricorder whirl, then Young answered, "None, sir. Nothing out of the ordin …"
Jim disliked voices that trailed off. In situations like this, they seldom led to good news. "Something?"
"Maybe." He frowned. "On and off screen so fast. Might have been a glitch."
Right. Being the handsome yet, obviously brain-dead hero of a horror flick held little appeal to Jim. He activated his comm again. "Company, kids," he hissed. "Gaila, I want that gadget set up and all shields down five minutes ago."
*
He shifted into a more obvious battle-ready stance, beyond caring whether anyone noticed or not. Spock signaled a halt as they reached the branch in the tunnel. He exchanged looks with security, but Bones knew the layout even better than they did. Moving forward now would put them closer to the inner core of the facility than either exit to the surface. No easy retreat. Best time for an attack.
Moving closer to Gaila, he kept one eye on his tricorder and one on his surroundings as they followed Spock into the tunnel leading to the Genetics Lab and the Infirmary beyond. Out of habit, Sam had activated the nanowall as they'd fled back to Earth. Creatures couldn't make the access controls work so it should still provide a safe haven.
Plan A – cut the shields, then set up the booster in the center of the facility and explore until beam out after a completely bored off their asses mission. Plan B – set up in the Infirmary and pray they could get the shields cut before they all died. Plan A seemed a no go, although they could hope, but hope didn't get one's ass through the mission alive, so Plan B it was.
Spock cut right instead of left, staying to the periphery of the complex instead of moving into the maintenance halls running toward the center. They'd have to get down there to cut the shields, but for now, the need for a secure base of operations and shedding some non-essential gear held priority.
"Fire in the hole," Sulu's voice whispered through the comms, then a moment later a muted explosion sounded through the halls. Biolock on the Weapons Lab must not have responded to the bypass key Scotty had whipped up. Not surprising. Hard to get around something keyed to DNA.
Spock stopped. A similar lock granted/denied access to the Infirmary, and if they blew their way in, it would no longer provide refuge. And Goddamnit to fucking hell, he should have told them everything! "One wall to defend is better than four," he muttered to the Vulcan because they didn't have time for him to stop and explain that his sister had programmed the bios to respond for him and Duke. She'd been showing off her clearance to Duke for the most part, none of them thinking they'd really need access, and Bones had never been so grateful for his long-dead friend's ability to charm the socks off of anyone alive.
A nod and the Vulcan moved forward. The attack came exactly when Bones expected it – at the cross between the main corridor and hall to the Genetics Lab. He shouted a warning as his tricorder leapt to life, but had already been in motion. It saved Gaila. Claws raked her shoulder and side instead of ripping her head off. He fired off two phaser bursts, even as he spun low and under her falling body, then up, catching her across his back and shoulders. Heart, head, the nightmare went down.
A second creature jumped down from the ceiling, firing its tongue. It caught Tsing in the neck. Four shots. Two more bodies on the ground.
Third thing's arms snagged Cupcake and pulled him up, and out of sight while Bones moved to help Spock with a fourth. The Vulcan managed to get a shot off, catching it in the shoulder, staggering it enough its claws struck leg instead of torso. Two shots put it down. He grabbed Spock by his shirt and ran, dragging him when Spock stumbled.
He reached the Infirmary within seconds, slamming his hand down against the pad, then punching in the access codes almost faster than the device could read it. He turned to see one of his three kills stumbling to its feet. Fucking hell! Phasers didn't work on them!
Dropping Gaila and Spock like rag dolls, he dove for the spot where his sister had piled the weapons of the dead RRTS members. "Handle ID: Reaper," an automated woman's voice sounded as he thumbed the bioguard, then fired. The creature went down, so did the second. They stayed down.
"Phasers don't work!" he shouted into his comm. "Fall back to Infirmary! Fall back!"
Spock lay in a pool of green blood, barely conscious. Gaila stared at him with eyes full of shock. Needed to help them, but if he left the door, the others … Phaser fire, pulled his attention back fully to the hallway. Sulu rounded the bend. No one followed. He dove through the wall, and rolled to his feet.
A fast flip of two switches deactivated the bioguard, and he tossed the weapon to Sulu. "Don't shoot Jim," he snapped, grabbing for the vascular sealer in his medkit.
He dropped to his knees beside Spock and went to work. Three major vessels damaged, but he managed to get each one repaired enough to stop the spurting. He switched to a tissue regenerator and gave him a few fast pulses. A hypo full of a stimulant to boost blood production finished the down and dirty job. Spock would probably lose the leg, but the danger of it killing him dropped to acceptable levels.
Shouting, phaser fire. He looked up to see Jim and Young pelting down the hallway. Two creatures tried to drop down on them, but Sulu raked the ceiling with bullets, throwing them off balance. Howling in rage both let loose their tongues, sending them hurtling at Young. The first missed, sailing through the nanowall in a weird echo of long ago. The other got him in the neck.
Jim burst through the wall, and Sulu made the mistake of sealing it instead of killing Young. Number of enemies just went up by one. Two if the mutations could repair phaser damage.
Wide blue eyes took in the pools of green and orange around Spock and Gaila. "Bones?"
"They'll make it," he said, not dwelling on the obvious mess of the first officer's leg or the fact that horrifically scarred Orions tended to commit suicide. "You?" he asked, his alarm at how much blood spattered Jim's face and uniform eased at how well he moved.
Jim swiped at the blood on his face. "Not bad. Most of it's Hendricks' blood." He shuddered and his voice tightened. "They ripped him apart." He moved cautiously toward the tongue, his phaser ready to fire even if it would only do temporary damage. It lay there limp and uninterested. Not interested in anyone in the room. Yeah, he would have guessed that. Fucking heroes all of them. "Sulu?"
"They killed Klein and A'bar. Nothing in the Weapons Lab we could use."
Fuck. "They grabbed Cup- Matthews," Bones said, finishing up repairing Gaila's major bleeds, then returning to Spock. "No way to know what they did with him, but he shares the same basic personality type as those they've turned."
"Fuck."
Bones couldn't stop the half-smile at the echo of his own sentiments, and he reached out a bloody hand and gave Jim's ankle a 'so fucking glad you aren't dead' squeeze.
Jim returned the sentiment with a gentle caress over the top of Bones' head. "Now how the hell do we get out of this?"
Sulu held up the G36. Goat, Mac and Portman's weapons had all been stacked in the pile, so Bones had no way of knowing which the one in Sulu's hands had belonged to. They were just fucking lucky that the members of the squad had had their biosignatures programmed into all the weapons so each could be used by any one of them. "This seems to have worked," he said, then went to check the other weapons. "Damn. Others are in lockdown mode. I can try to bypass them, but it screws up the trigger mechanism half the time."
"Jim," A weak voice announced Spock hadn't had the good sense to pass out. Damned Vulcans.
"Stay still, Spock," Bones ordered, then flinched when brown eyes fixed on him. He gave the Vulcan a weak smile. "I'll fill him in."
An eyebrow quirked trying to raise, but it was sort of a pathetic looking sight. Sort of like its owner. Bones sighed, kept working, but he started talking. "There was no rift. It was a bio-experiment gone bad."
Calm as anything, the doctor practiced his art, while the soldier gave his report. The scientists had discovered that some of the Martian remains they'd recovered had a 24th chromosome. Unwilling to leave well enough alone, they started tinkering. "They called the result C24," he said, nodding toward the carrousel holding seven vials of a clear liquid. "The results were the creatures." He shook his head, to this day unable to understand the stupidity of otherwise brilliant people.
"Sam Grimm figured out that not everyone had the genetic markers to mutate into monsters. That some would become the … super beings they were hoping to create in the first place." One of the seals began to leak, but he kept talking as he dealt with the threat. "Just a theory until her brother got hit with a ricochet. He was dying, and to save him, she injected him with the serum." He gestured again, this time giving emphasis to the slot that contained no vial. "It worked. He got them the hell out of here, and they came up with the rift story to keep him from ending up a guinea pig for government experiments."
"And you know this how?" Jim demanded, although the closed off look on his face clearly said he'd already guessed.
Bones stood up, walked over to Sulu, then took the 'useless' weapon out of his hands. "Bottom line, aging is cellular death and deterioration. C24 prevents that."
Sulu looked at him. "So you're …"
"Sergeant John Grimm," he answered, then activated the bios.
"Handle ID: Reaper."
Silence followed, but a soft snort broke it after a few moments. "They called you 'Reaper?' As in Grim Reaper?"
He set the weapon aside and returned to Gaila. He smiled and told her the same thing he'd told his sister. "They were marines, not poets." He tapped his forearm. "Used to have it tattooed right here."
"How … rid of it?" she asked, her voice weaker than he'd like.
"Cut it off. Sliced my arm down to the bone. Skin that grew back didn't know it belonged there." Surprisingly enough, the same method had worked on all of his identifying marks – like the large mole that used to be part of one eyebrow.
"Should … should I be worried … doctor … is … death?"
"No, but you should rest now."
She closed her eyes, and he hoped she wouldn't make a liar out of him.
*
All he could do was stand here, trembling with rage and rejecting idea after idea of how to pull off a miracle and save the rest of his people, not to mention the civilians due to arrive here in the next five hours.
"Jim."
He glared at … Bones? John? Whothefuckever. "No."
Mystery Man shouldered one of the G36s. "I have to go. It's our only chance."
He shook his head. "Not alone. Sulu can stay with Spock and Gaila. I'll go with you." A terrible plan, but the best he could come up with.
Whoever shook his head. "If any human has a chance against those terrors, it's you. But it's not worth the risk."
"What do you care?" he snapped, feeling childish, but also needing something, because another plan was stirring, so he went with his instincts and let a few minutes be all about him. "I'm just some dumb sap to fuck until I'm not pretty enough to interest you anymore." He hissed out the words, keeping the tone and volume low enough that they barely carried to Whoever. "How long did I have? Another year? Until my first wrinkle? When?"
"Jesus, Jim, no!" A warm hand caressed his face and he couldn't quite stop himself from leaning into the touch. "Don't you get it? You're it for me. I've never let anyone this close. You're the one I want every minute I can get from, the one I'll spend the rest of my existence grieving for when I lose you."
He closed his eyes tightly, and let the answer come to him. "Okay, then." He slipped around his lover and back out into the main room, then over to where they'd bolted down the monster's tongue. He waved his hand over it. Not a twitch. "This means I'm dinner, not a potential convert. Right?"
John-Bones shook his head, but Jim could see hope in those hazel eyes. Can't imagine how lonely he must have been all this time. "You don't understand the kind of life you'd be condemning yourself to."
"Seems more a choice of it or death," Jim answered, then moved close again. "And I'll have you. Whoever the hell you are."
"Bones," he answered without the slightest hesitation. "And yes, you will."
He stepped back, then picked up one of the vials. "Then do it."
Decision made, Bones had a hypospray loaded and hissing against Jim's neck within moments. "How long?"
"Not sure. Took about thirty minutes for me, but Sam injected me about five seconds before I died, so it had more work to do."
He didn't like hearing Bones talk about dying and gave him a fierce kiss. It made him dizzy. Or was that the serum? In any case, "I think I'll sit down for a few minutes."
Bones helped him down to the floor, then turned as Sulu said, "I'm next."
"Hikaru, you don't-"
"I get it, Doc, but there's at least three of those things out there plus three of our guys. We need better odds than that." He picked up a vial and held it up. "This is for me." He took a second one, and added, "This will be for … my Jim. If he wants it."
Jim felt almost feverish, like he was watching from far away as Bones gave Sulu the injection, then his helmsman joined Jim on the floor.
"Doctor." Spock.
"No, absolutely not," Bones snapped.
"It is necessary." Voice weak, but firm.
"Damnit, you green-blooded Hobgoblin, I barely understand how this works on a human. God only knows what the fuck it will do to a Vulcan."
"As my current condition leaves doubt to my survival and makes me a hindrance to the success of our mission, it is only logical that I take the risk."
Bones cursed, but he pulled two more vials, storing one with the extra Sulu had given him, then injecting the contents of the other into Spock.
"One… me… Johnny?" Gaila sounded drunk and Jim knew that couldn't be good.
Apparently Bones agreed because he didn't even argue with her. Just gave her the shot, then secured the final vial.
Jim could have put names on each of the three remaining doses, but his thoughts began to scatter, and he decided now would be a great time for a nap.
*
A soft sigh caught his attention and he smiled slightly. Jim always made that sound when he started waking up. Sure enough, a few moments later, a pair of blue eyes opened. They regarded him for a minute, then Jim said, "I should have known you weren't really from the South."
He raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"
"You hate sweet tea."
Bones snorted. "How you feeling?"
"Pretty damned good actually," he answered, jumping to his feet in a fast, fluid motion. "Except for the part where my boyfriend turned out to be a lying bastard."
No heat, but Bones knew Jim didn’t trust easily and had never given his heart to anyone else. Sort of like him. "I wanted us to have a few years before all the other years got in the way."
Jim wrinkled his nose. "Not sure, but I think I should be worried that I understood that." He knelt between Spock and Gaila. Bones had moved them both away from the spilled blood once they'd stopped leaking, and had cleaned them up enough the effects of the serum were obvious. "Damage has healed."
"Yeah, so far so good." He sighed. "For being dropped in the shit, we've been damned lucky."
Sulu sat up and stretched. "Let's hope it continues."
Gaila woke next, popping to her feet with the same fast, grace. She looked at Spock and frowned. "Shouldn't I have come to last?"
Bones shook his head. "He was hurt the worst, but it shouldn't be much longer."
"Indeed, Doctor," Spock spoke, then opened his eyes. "I believe all is well."
"Discounting the monsters," Bones muttered, watching Spock get up. He didn't move any faster than Jim and Sulu had. Damn, where was a steel bar when he needed one? His eyes fell on one of the lab tables. It'd do. He turned it over, then folded one of the metal legs in half. "Spock, fold the other leg. Fast as you can."
Spock raised an eyebrow, but obeyed. He didn't do it any faster or any easier than Bones had. "Looks like the C24 didn't ramp you up as much. We're all about equal in strength now." No way of telling if it would change or to measure more accurately, but, it was the best he could do for now.
"Fascinating. Perhaps there is only so much strength a humanoid form can sustain without some sort of mass mutation."
"Makes as much sense as anything. Just remember you won't be able to necessarily do more than what you see the rest of us doing and that's not a normal frame of reference for you."
Spock nodded. "I will endeavor to adjust my actions accordingly."
"Terrific," Bones muttered. "Gaila, your turn." The metal bent in her hands, but not quite as quickly. Nothing he couldn't attribute to differences in gender muscle mass. He nodded to Jim. "We're good."
"Okay, people, the plan is pretty simple," Jim said. "We fight our way out of here and to the shield generators." He gave Gaila two of the pistols, and handled the final one to Sulu. "Take 'em out, get the hell out of here, then blast this place into non-existence."
Sulu drew his collapsible katana from its sheath, then touched a switch that snapped the blade into its full glory. "Ready."
Gaila picked up the transporter booster and Bones' medical kit, tucked one pistol into her belt, and chambered a round in the second. "Ready."
Bones handed Spock one of the rifles he'd activated. Jim shouldered the one he'd already activated, while he picked up the third. "Handle ID: Reaper."
Jim nodded, then said, "I'll cover the ceiling. Spock, you take up the rear. Bones, you've got point."
*
Bones set a quick, but steady pace – a high speed run for a human, but to Jim's body it had the feel of a controlled jog. Good for shooting with accuracy, and they lacked the ammunition to waste a single shot.
Sulu beheaded one of the things as it charged the middle of the group when they reached the main maintenance corridor. He fired one shot to the heart to make certain it didn't somehow recover enough to reattach the head.
A fast assault by four of the damned things, forced them to shoot blindly. Jim had to replace his ammo clip, and saw Bones doing the same thing. But they'd taken out two of the creatures. None of them wore the remains of a Starfleet uniform.
They reached the generators after a second attack and one more dead creature. Jim only had a few rounds left. Knew that Spock and Bones had about the same. Gaila cursed when she saw the set up. "This is going to take a few minutes, Captain," she said, cracking a panel. "They didn't design their shields to go up and down. I'm going to have to disable everything to take them off line."
Fuck. "Explosives?"
She shook her head. "Take too much for us to get clear of the blast even with our superpowers."
Sulu moved to her side, taking up a protective stance, while Bones, Spock and Jim fanned out in a wider arc.
For almost a minute the only sounds were of Gaila working, then Jim heard a scuffing. "You weren't planning on leaving us, were you, Cupcake?" an all too familiar voice called out of the darkness.
Fuckedy fuck! Knew he never should have let that bastard stay on his crew, but Jim had changed for the better. He had to let others prove they could do the same thing. "I don't want to kill you," he answered, although, one way or the other, he would.
"Always were a weak piece of shit, farmboy." Voice moved, circling them.
Jim tapped the side of his glasses, switching the view to infrared. Nine, not three signatures. Most likely all of them. Hungry for food after centuries of not eating or revenge now that mutation had washed away any pretence of humanity would make certain no creature remained behind. "Right," he muttered, picking his targets.
"Middle." Bones.
"Left." Spock.
"Now!" They fired, pouring most of their ammunition into the red shapes. Five fell and began to cool. The others jerked, hit, but they'd moved too swiftly for the direct head and heart strikes needed. Anticipated the attack. Military, not scientific, minds behind the killing rage. His people, then. But who had the fourth been?
"Sarge!" Bones called out, "Damnit, Tom, why didn't you die?"
Staff Sergeant Thomas Kelley. The leader of Reaper's squad and the man he'd clamed had gone on a killing spree even before 'contamination' mutated him. "Friend of yours?"
"Once upon a time." He held out his rifle to Sulu. "Give me that pig-sticker of yours, kid."
"Bones?" Jim asked as Sulu switched weapons.
"He's a lot smarter than your jackanapes, Jim. I need to lead him away, so you can take care of them." He pulled a combat knife from his belt.
Jim didn't like the sound of that at all. "If he's that smart, he won't follow."
"Yeah, he will. Setting aside the whole I tried to kill him thing, I disobeyed orders. He kills for that."
Before Jim could respond, Bones darted forward and swerved left, diving through a gap in the creatures' line and into a service tunnel. The biggest red blob went after him.
*
How could such a man have continued to slaughter civilians after Sam had figured out not all of them would change? And surely he must have imagined Sarge gunning down The Kid for refusing to follow orders to murder innocent civilians, children included. Would never have believed it. Hell, he would have fucking killed anyone who had suggested it was even possible. Yet he'd seen it with his own eyes. And Sarge would have forced a 'kill or be killed' firefight when Duke and Bones had also baulked. Except the creatures had attacked. Killed Duke, taken Sarge and he'd fired one bullet too many, killing himself. Except Sam hadn't let him die. Instead, she'd condemned him to watching her grow old and die, leaving him alone, drifting from one life to another, always knowing he'd end up back here.
Full circle? Had he come back to die or just to finish things? Probably both. Didn't have much of a chance here. A deadly man-mountain of muscle even before mutation, a partially-mutated Sarge had been more than a match for an enhanced-Bones. Fully mutated, yeah, not much of a chance in hell. Damn fucking stupid, but he was sick of this running shit. He got two solid walls behind him, then turned to fight.
*
Except, yeah, still not the half-brain dead hero of an action film. He was captain of the fucking Enterprise and that meant he held his ground, his weapon at the ready. Not the sort of thing anyone would ever write epic poetry about, but if it kept his surviving crew members alive and undigested, so be it.
Not that the three fucking monsterteers made it easy on him. They spent the first five minutes insulting everything from his courage to the size of his penis. Had to given them a few points for creativity though.
Then they shifted targets to Gaila. Lots of sexual innuendo laced with words like skank, whore, slut, etc. Far less creative, and Gaila seemed bored by it. People had opinions about Orion women, and they liked to share them. She'd no doubt heard worse by better than this sorry lot.
Got pathetic when they tried their luck with Spock and Sulu. They obviously didn't know enough about either of them to do much more than sneer things on a 'I know you are, what am I?' level. Pitiful. Absolutely pitiful. Cupcake even tried to repeat the same taunts Jim had used to push Acting Captain Spock over the edge, but that was water under the bridge. Didn't even get the Vulcan to raise an eyebrow. Really sad.
"Captain," Gaila said softly the needed few minutes later. She turned away from the controls and set the transporter booster into place. That took less than fifteen seconds.
Spock shifted. "They will, of course, attack when the transporter activates."
Oh, yeah. They might be pathetic excuses for human beings, but they weren't stupid. If they didn't get back to the ship, they'd be stuck here with no food waiting for death to rain down on their miserable heads. They had to make a play for transport. "I'm counting on it. Gaila, do it."
He heard the snap of two switches, a whine, then everything but the emergency lights switched off. "Scotty, now!" he shouted.
Instantly, the swirling light of the transporter surrounded them, while three shapes leapt toward them.
*
Sarge spun around and got him with a backhand slice that severed the right half of his torso.
Bones let his collapse take him out of the range of another strike, and rolled, his blood spurting everywhere even as the flesh mended with amazing speed. Made it to his feet, dodged another attack. But he felt dizzy. Wouldn't last much longer.
*
"Welcome back, sir. I have three trapped in transit."
"Send them into the sun," Jim ordered. "Widest pattern dispersal possible."
"Aye, sir." Scotty's fingers flew over the console, while Jim checked his landing party. Spock, Sulu, Gail, but …
"Where the fuck is Bones?" he shouted.
"Booster works on widening pulses. It'll take a few more seconds to lock onto him," Gaila said, joining Scotty.
Spock's hand gripped his shoulder to steady him, while Jim clenched his fists and tried very hard not to think about all the shit that could happen in a few seconds.
*
Harder this time. Not because of Sarge's full mutation, although that didn't fucking help. But time had muted Bones' desire to kill him, had given him distance he couldn't have back then with his hands and uniform covered with The Kid's dried blood. Now, he lacked the blood lust, his mind screaming Sarge had snapped under the pressure. They'd been the best. Never failed. Sarge hadn't been able to handle a nightmare he couldn't defeat.
His fault. Bones had been second-in-command. Should have seen it. Should have stopped him the way Jim had stopped Spock. Should have found a way to turn things around and get them all out of there. But he'd been too worried about his sister. Too sure of Sarge in any situation. Fucking moron.
He twisted away from claws but a forearm caught him, sending him flying against the wall. Wind exploded out of his lungs and his neck snapped at the impact. Neither worse than the other, both fixed by the time he hit the floor, but he rolled out of the way with far less speed than he needed to get some distance between them.
Up on his feet, spin to meet the next charge, and light swirled around him. Sorrow swept through him, and what he'd once said with triumphant venom, he now whispered with regret, "Semper Fi … Tom."
The light took them both, but only Bones made it to the ship. He staggered off the pad and into Jim's arms.
"I've got you, Bones." Safe. All over. He let darkness take him, and surrendered the past to the oblivion it deserved.
*
"Unwanted guest given the same service as the others," Scotty told him.
Gaila added, "Beam down points plotted for maximum effect."
Jim activated his comm. "Sulu?"
"Photon torpedoes armed and ready to go," he answered from his bridge station.
"Scotty, energize."
"Aye, sir." More flying fingers across the controls. "Torpedo transport successful."
Chekov's voice announced, "Detonation in five, four, three, two, one."
Jim could see it all in his mind. The transporter light slicing through the darkness, the weapons going live, then all blowing in the exact same second. It would destroy a good eighth of Mars and utterly obliterate the research base.
"Detonation confirmed." Done. They were done.
He shifted Bones, lifting him easily into his arms and ignoring Scotty's jaw dropping. He'd leave any explanations to Gaila, because he was pretty certain her extra vial had Scotty's name on it. He walked out of the transporter room, Spock at his side.
"Uhura," he contacted the bridge again.
"Sir?" she answered.
"Inform Admiral Pike that the rift has been closed and the facility destroyed. UAC is welcome to what is left."
"Yes, sir."
Spock raised an eyebrow. "You will not tell the Admiral the truth of what happened?"
"Pike's a good man, but," he hugged Bones close, "some things are too precious to risk to another's discretion."
Spock consider this a moment, perhaps thinking of the vial he had claimed for Nyota. "Indeed."
*
Arms tightened around him. "Stupid bastard," Jim growled. "And you call me an idiot."
"Never said I wasn't one, too, sweetheart."
"Almost got yourself killed. Should have stayed with us."
Bones shifted so he could hold as well as being held. "Maybe, but Tom didn't know anything about transporters and how we could get him off the base. And he had more than 200 years to learn every knock and cranny of the place." Somehow Bones knew, Sarge would have found a way to prevent their escape, to destroy them all. He sighed. Or maybe he'd gotten too caught up in memories of Sarge pulling miracles out of his ass to remember he'd folded when faced with a no-win scenario. "Too much past in that place. Forgot when push came to shove, you saved the galaxy."
"Well, maybe a chunk of it."
He smiled, then kissed the brat.
Jim shifted on top of him, snagged the lube off the beside table, then settled into a long, deep kiss as he got himself ready. "Love you, Bones," he whispered, shifting to take him inside.
"Love you, too," he groaned as Jim began to move up and down on his cock. Felt strange, but glorious to not need to hold back for fear of hurting him. They moved together hard and fast, restrained by nothing more than the limits of the bed they writhed on. Both came with a shout, banishing the last of the shadows from his mind. Jim was good for him that way. Like sunshine. Beautiful sunshine.
Jim flopped down against his chest. "Mmmm, good. But I'm gonna miss the ache in my ass after a good ride."
Bones smiled. "There are compensations," he said, then watched Jim's eyes widen as the cock inside him grew hard again.
Jim's cock hardened in response, and he looked down between them, then smirked. "Awesome."
*
Nyota came for her shot first. Pavel followed, then Scotty. Turned out each of them had come the moment their respective partners had asked, but not all had worked up the courage to tell the truth at the same time. No one beyond the eight ever knew what had happened on Mars.
The UAC had bellowed, launched a protest, but no one outside of Starfleet could ever prove a connection between the ship and the destruction of the base. Those killed were listed as lost in an explosion in the engineering section. That sort of thing happened. No one thought to question it. At least not beyond those who already knew the truth.
A year after the Mars Incident, Nyota demanded a ring on her finger and Jim thought that sounded like a great idea, so he'd made Bones marry him. Pavel and Hikaru married at the beginning of their second five-year mission. Scotty talked Gaila into it a few months later.
Nyota's parents died within weeks of each other midway through their third mission. Jim's mother died the following year. He made it to her side in time to hold her hand for those last few minutes, and took comfort from the smile on her face. "Tell Dad I said hi," he whispered, then she was gone. Bones held him as he cried, then the eight of them got together and traded stories about lost loved ones.
By the fourth mission the Admiralty began to grumble as Jim's command crew refused promotions off the ship. Jim argued that it didn't make sense to break up a winning team, and it got them a fifth mission, but they knew it wouldn't work again. Besides makeup could only hide the lack of so much for so long.
Scotty and Gaila got busy making experimental modifications on ship's systems. Everything began to work so well that the Enterprise quickly got the odd reputation of a boring assignment despite consistently being in the center of every crisis. The ship didn't seem to need most of its crew, and many refused to sign up for the fifth mission. Rather than replace them with new hordes of soon-to-be bored personnel, Starfleet allowed her to get underway with a crew of no more than 150. The number had dropped below 100 by the time they put into Risa for one last shoreleave before the mission's end.
Jim sent everyone but his command staff off to have fun in complete violation of the minimum standards set for even a skeleton crew. From there it was simple enough – a manufactured disaster, the need to break orbit and warp the ship away from all inhabited worlds (and their scanning arrays), an explosion that vaporized everything for a parsec – and just like that, they had the whole ship to themselves. Without orders to contend with, they explored were they wanted to, interfered when conscience demanded it and basically pulled off the same crisis-busting miracles they'd become known for, but quietly and without the reports, the medals or the demands to accept promotions.
Bones and Jim never strayed from their wedding vows. Neither did Nyota or Spock. Pavel, Hikaru, Scotty and Gaila got a bit more creative, each claiming their own quarters, but one never knew which two rooms might be unoccupied on a given night. Finally Scotty set up a room with a bed big enough to sleep four. Jim rolled his eyes and said he didn't want to know, even as he laughed and enjoyed the antics of his crazy family.
And one little thing righted itself. Nyota started it one night about a month after they'd finished with Mars. The eight of them were having dinner, when she announced she'd never liked the nickname 'Bones,' but had settled for it because 'Leonard' hadn't suited him. "I'm going to call you John," she said. With that Leonard McCoy became as much a part of his title as Doctor, while his true friends resurrected his real name. A private thing, as their first names had always been. And he found he liked it, and he rapidly grew irritated when anyone called him Bones. With one exception. Yes, one little thing corrected itself, as this timeline merged with the other, and Jim became the only person he let call him Bones.
end