Chapter Text
The cell was cold and damp, the stone pressing the chill straight through to the bone. Kirk sat propped against the wall, McCoy slumped against his chest, his weight heavy and unsteady. Every shallow breath rasped against Kirk's ribs.
McCoy stirred, his head shifting slightly, a faint groan escaping. His voice was little more than a whisper.
"Why're you… holding me like a baby, Jim?"
Kirk forced a smile he didn't feel, his arm tightening around him. "For my sake, Bones. I'm freezing. You're warm."
McCoy gave the shadow of a huff, almost like a laugh, but it faded quickly. His fingers twitched weakly against Kirk's uniform. "Where… are we?"
"Temporary accommodations," Kirk said lightly, though his throat was tight. "Nothing the reviews would recommend."
McCoy's brow furrowed, but his eyes stayed shut. "Figures." His voice cracked on the word, his body shuddering against Kirk's.
Kirk shifted, he wasn't sure if he was hurting him, holding him close like that, but it hadn't been a complete lie that he was holding McCoy for his own sake. "Don't worry about it. Spock'll find us. Probably already halfway through the walls by now."
For a moment McCoy was silent, only his breathing rough and uneven. Then, faintly: "You… sure?"
Kirk bent his head closer, the words coming out steady even though he had to force them past the knot in his chest.
"Yeah, Bones. I'm sure. You just hang on. That's all you need to do."
McCoy made a tired sound, somewhere between doubt and trust, and let himself sink heavier against Kirk. Then: "You think I'm dying."
Kirk ignored him. "Did I ever tell you about the time I got caught in that sandstorm on Sigma IV? Nearly lost my communicator in a pile of mud. Terrible day… but funny in hindsight."
McCoy sighed, or tried to. His voice was definitely not working normally, it sounded as if he had been screaming non-stop for the past 3 hours. His head hurt, his arms and legs were trembling, even with Jim holding him like this. Breathing hurt ... actually everything hurt. But why?
"I must have looked like a fool digging through the mud like a mad man," Kirk went on, "couldn't see a thing, I had to feel for it."
Then he heard it. Footsteps outside. Jim heard them too, but went on talking. "I'm not sure it was just mud either. It smelled, ... well like not-mud."
The steps grew louder, each echo reverberating through the stone corridors like a hammer. McCoy's shallow breaths turned ragged, his fingers clutching at Kirk's uniform as fragments of memory flickered through his mind.
"They… they wanted you, Jim," he whispered, voice trembling. "They… made me—"
"Shh, Bones, it's okay," Kirk interrupted, pressing a hand to his shoulder. His calm tone belied the tightening of his chest, the cold spike of fear that threatened to break through. "I'm right here. Just stay with me. Don't think about them, don't let them—"
"They hurt me! I—I tried to…" McCoy's voice cracked. He buried his face in Kirk's chest, and for a moment, Kirk feared the doctor might crumble entirely.
"I know," Kirk said, voice low, urgent. "I saw it. I saw everything. But you're still here, damn it. You're still with me."
McCoy shivered violently, and Kirk felt it ripple through him like an electric jolt. He hugged him tighter, his own panic masked beneath the firm, protective pressure of his arms.
A shadow passed under the cell door—a long, deliberate scrape of boots. McCoy's eyes snapped open, wide and terrified. "They're coming back!"
"I see them," Kirk said, voice deceptively calm. "But it doesn't matter. You stay right here, with me. They won't touch you. Not while I'm—"
"Jim… you can't ... I know … tried to ..." McCoy faltered, words lost in the tremor of fear and memory.
"Shut up," Kirk said a little harsher than intended. "Just focus on me. That's all I need. Just stay with me. We'll get out of this."
McCoy's grip tightened, knuckles white against the fabric of Kirk's shirt. His body was trembling, every nerve raw.
Kirk, though his heart hammered with panic and helplessness, found his steady voice again. He went on: "All you need to do Bones, is stay alive. Nothing more. Keep breathing. Spock has a plan." He kept that truth steady for both of them: they were alive, they were together, and Spock was out there, doing everything he could to find them.
The cell door rattled.
McCoy stayed silent, though his grip on Kirk's shirt tightened. Kirk's stomach knotted. He knew the truth—they weren't after McCoy. Not really. They were after him. But the cruelty of the choice they had forced on him burned hot.
Kirk leaned in, voice low but firm. "You hear me, Bones? Just stay quiet. They don't get you, not while I'm here."
McCoy's eyes met his, a fleeting flash of panic and pain. "Jim… I…"
"Focus on breathing. Focus on staying alive."
The door began to swing open, a glint of steel catching the light. Kirk's heart pounded. He didn't let go of McCoy, using his own body to shield him. The first guard stepped inside, the tall Romulan, the one whose emotions were close to the surface, the one who had almost used the disruptor, had his colleague not intervened. As the other stepped in too, cold, calculating, brutal, Kirk's voice was steady, though every nerve screamed.
"You leave him alone," he said, voice hard. "You want information? You'll get it—but only if he's safe. Or I'll stop talking."
They both froze, as if they hadn't expected this answer. A tense moment passed. McCoy opened his eyes, staring at Kirk in horror.
Then there was a sudden commotion outside, a controlled but unmistakable force of movement: Spock. The Vulcan's silhouette filled the doorway, stride calm but purposeful. The Romulans crumpled to the floor, soundlessly, simultaneously, as if they'd never been real in the first place.
It took a moment for Kirk to comprehend. Spock was scanning them both, wordlessly, stoically. Then his hands were moving to administer a hypo to McCoy.
"Analgesics and stimulants. We have to move," Spock explained curtly.
McCoy groaned as the medication took hold, his body slackening slightly, but his eyes sparkled with the remnants of fear and defiance.
Kirk, holding him firmly, turned to Spock. "Take the lead. I've got him."
Spock raised a brow, "Captain, my superior physical strength suggests I carry the doctor and you taking the lead."
"I said I have him, Spock," Kirk insisited harshly, getting up, taking McCoy with him who was standing on his own feet now, leaning heavily on Jim, but grinning, high on stims already. Spock inclined his head and started moving toward the door, weapon drawn. McCoy snorted. "Let's discuss all possible alternatives. Jim, why don't you carry Spock, and I take the lead?"
Neither Spock nor Kirk reacted. Only McCoy laughed a bit at his own joke, voice brittle and hoarse, as they started moving. Spock was taking point, weapon and scanner in hand, Kirk was supporting McCoy, who could barely get his feet to cooperate.