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Five Times Jim Kirk Died on Leonard McCoy, and The One Time McCoy Returned The Favor
One
Dead.
Impossible.
He can’t be dead.
He’s James Tiberius Fucking Kirk, there’s no way in hell he can be dead.
But it’s his body in the bag that they handed Bones. It’s his face that Bones sees as he unzips the bag. It’s his eyes that stare blankly back at Bones from the examination table.
And that’s the worst part. Jim’s eyes are (were Bones corrects himself, barely able to stumble back to his office) always so bright and vibrant. When Jim was happy, his eyes quivered with excitement, the blue rippling around his pupils like the ocean. When Jim was angry, his eyes matched the colour of the ocean in one of her rages. Those eyes were the eye everyone saw, the eyes that he shone at Pike and flashed at those who attempted to hurt his crew.
The eyes that are haunting Bones’s memory, staring back at him as he closes his own, are the eyes that Jim saved just for Bones. They were the softer ones, the ones that watched Bones’s every move with fascination. They were the same eyes would gentle when they fell on the CMO of the Enterprise, tenderly following every move that Dr. McCoy would make. The eyes that were burned into Bones’s memory, the eyes that are filling his own eyes with tears, are the ones that he would wake up to, the pure, simple love in them for Bones’s eyes only.
Not that it matters, Bones thinks bitterly, because he’ll never see those beautiful eyes open for him again. That thought alone causes him to break, his head falling into his hands as the dam bursts, and the tears start to race down his cheeks. “Dammit, Jim,” he sobs, his voice breaking as his eyes open.
That’s when he sees the tribble.
That’s when Bones’s world starts to right itself.
Two
It was fucking stupid, that’s what it was. Bones had given Jim a simple command. No big deal, right?
No. Bones was in love with the stupidest fucking man in all of Starfleet, and Jim Kirk and his idiot self had to try the food. “Now, Jim,” Bones had said, sitting across from him but not looking up from his files. “We don’t know anything about the food on this planet, so don’t eat it. I don’t need to add you asphyxiating on my table onto my lists of why sleeping with you is a mistake.”
Jim had grinned, like he always did, and gone on to call Bones on his bluff, reminding him exactly why sleeping with him would never be a mistake.
Of course, the mind blowing sex did not keep Captain James Tiberius I-want-to-put-everything-in-my-mouth-even-if-it’s-going-to-kill-me Kirk from eating the local cuisine. Which was why he ended up on the operating table, Bones trying desperately to keep him alive all while crushing down the overwhelming urge to strangle the bastard himself.
Bones had turned away from Jim for a grand total of two seconds to grab a hypospray when the monitor that was attached to Jim’s chest went silent. Bones and Doctor M’Benga exchanged a panicked look before leaping into action, M’Benga taking the hypospray out of Bones’s hands as Bones pulled out an ancient looking machine that had saved countless lives in the 21st century. He stopped long enough to rip Jim’s shirt open to bare his chest, growling a quiet “not today, you fucking bastard,” before focusing his attention solely on bringing the Captain back to life.
Twenty minutes later, when Jim’s throat was back to its normal size, and his breathing was steadily returning to normal, Bones collapsed into the chair beside his bed. He reached out for Jim’s hand, needing the contact more than he needed air. “I can’t keep doing this, Jim.” Bones sighed, laying his head down beside Jim’s. “ You’re the reason for every single one of my gray hairs.”
“You love me anyway,” the voice beside Bones’s head rasped, and Bones answering laugh was just as weak.
“Fuck knows why.”
Jim didn’t argue, instead turning his head to press a soft kiss to Bones’s temple. “Marry me?” his voice was soft, his eyes wide and vulnerable and just for Bones to see.
“Yeah, kid.” Bones’s voice was just as soft, and he tightened his grip on Jim’s hand. “I’ll marry you.”
Three
Bones understood that being married to Captain James T. Kirk wasn’t going to be easy. He just hadn’t expected the marital problems to start because some assassins wanted to eliminate the threat that was his husband before they’d made it to the reception hall.
“Dammit, Jim!” the blood was seeping through Jim’s white shirt, and Bones couldn’t hold back the tears that were forming. “You could have at least waited until we’d been married a day to piss everyone off!”
“S’not my fault,” Jim coughed, and the lack of insult in his reply terrified Bones.
“Jim,” Bones was panicking, applying pressure to the wound and taking his pulse at the same time. Of all the days to leave his medkit on the Enterprise. “Jim, stay with me, okay? Spock and the others are bringing me my medkit. I’ll have you fixed in no time.”
“Love you, Bones.” Jim’s voice was weak, his eyes fluttering shut. “I should have told you that more.”
Bones bit back a wounded cry, opting instead to apply more pressure to the wound. “Listen to my voice, stay with it. Spock will be here soon.”
“You looked amazing in there,” Jim’s eyes were closed, his breaths coming in shallower gasps. “Like…like something from a dream.”
Bones smiled at that, tears falling down his cheeks. “You did too, Jim.” He bent down to press a gentle kiss to Jim’s lips, ignoring the blood he could taste in Jim’s mouth. “Fuck, Jim, you did too.”
“I should have married you sooner,” Jim’s voice was getting weaker, and Bones tried to ignore the sharp pain in his chest. “We didn’t even get to have hot, just married sex.” Jim attempted a smile, and Bones tearfully wiped away the blood on his lips. “Bones, take care of-”
“Shut it, Jim.” Bones couldn’t hold back his sobs. “Spock will be here any minute, okay? I’m going to fix you, darlin’. Alright?”
Jim smiled again, looking peaceful and angelic, even with the blood stains on his clothes, and the crimson flecks around his lips. “Thank you, Leonard.”
Bones couldn’t keep himself together as his husband bled out in his arms. Spock had to pry Jim’s body away from him, and it took both Uhura and Scotty to guide him back to sickbay. It took an offhanded remark from Chekov to remind him of the stash of Khan’s blood that McCoy kept hidden in his office, and it took four days for Jim to wake up.
It took weeks for the fist shaped bruise on Spock’s face to fade.
Four
A plague.
Of course.
Jim had to end up with a fucking plague. Not just any plague, oh no. That’d be too simple for Jim. Jim Kirk-McCoy had to catch a plague that left its victims dead within four hours.
It took four hours and five minutes for Bones to figure out what happened.
It took three hours fifty seven minutes and eight seconds for Jim to come back to life.
It took a month before he was allowed back in their bed.
Five
Bones hadn’t taken the shuttle because, despite being twenty years older than the day he met Jim Kirk, they still scared him shitless. The phone call from Starfleet telling him that Jim’s shuttle had crashed, and his husband was in the hospital in critical condition scared him more than any shuttle flight ever could.
The great thing about being CMO of Starfleet’s flagship, Bones decided, was that he could march into any hospital and take over any patient he fucking wanted to. And he’d be damned if he was going to let some pissy ass doctor who wasn’t himself treat his husband. He was the only one who had the hard-earned privilege to bitch at James Kirk-McCoy when he was incapacitated.
He was also, it seemed, the only one who was allowed to watch him die and struggle to bring him back to life.
“Bones,” Jim cracked an eye, seemingly oblivious to the fact that he had flatlined three times on the operating table.
“I’m here, Jim.” And the slight pressure Jim felt against his shoulder proved it. “What do you need, darlin’?”
“Next time I decide to take a shuttle, promise you’ll hit me on the head and lock me in our room.”
“Promise.”
+1
Leonard HoratioKirk- McCoy
Beloved Husband and Friend
May Your Memory Live on in Our Hearts
“Father,” Spock’s son looked at the man kneeling in front of the grave stone. “I do not understand. Dr. Kirk-McCoy has been dead for exactly six years. Why does your friend still grieve?”
Spock looked at Uhura with his raised eyebrow, and she took the hint. Her slender form soon joined Jim’s, her arm on his shoulder as he turned to bury his face in her neck, his body shaking as sobs were torn from his throat. “My friend still grieves because the memory of his love is still strong. Dr. Kirk-McCoy was of great emotional importance to Jim, and I suspect he will never truly stop grieving his loss.”
“Do you miss him?” Spock looked down at his son, Uhura’s brown eyes and his own puzzled expression staring back at him.
Spock was silent for a minute, weighing each answer before deciding on the perfect one with a short nod. “Every day.”
“Hey, Jim,” Uhura held her best friend and former captain close as he sobbed all over her shirt. “Jim, it’s alright.”
“He should be here, not me. I was the one who should have gotten sick, not him.” Jim held Uhura tighter, his sobs not slowing. “He never should have…” at this, Jim trailed off, sobbing brokenly into Uhura’s arms.
“Never should have what?” Uhura prompted gently. “Jim, he gave you his heart.” She pushed Jim back so she could place her hand on his chest, pressing gently against the scar that told of just how deep Dr. McCoy’s love for Jim was. “That part of him will always be with you, alright?” She left her hand on the heart that McCoy had given Jim six years earlier, leaning forward and wrapping her arms around his shoulders.
Jim shook as his tears stopped, the occasional sniffle still sneaking out of his body. “I’m sorry, Nyota. It’s just…I miss him so fucking much.”
“I know, sweetie. I know,” Uhura had tears in her eyes, but Jim didn’t notice. “Look, I’m going to take Spock and the little one to the shuttle. We’ll wait for you there, alright?”
Jim nodded, not moving much as he heard rather than saw Spock’s family leave him alone in the cemetery.
He was quiet for a few minutes, his fingers tracing idly over the engraved letters. “Fuck, Bones,” he breathed, taking a deep breath to steady himself. “I love you. I still love you.”
That night, alone in the bed that he had shared with Bones for over thirty years, he could almost hear Bones’s warm drawl of, “I love you too, darlin’.”
For the first time in six years, James Tiberius Kirk-McCoy smiled as he slept.