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Fic: The Serendipity Effect (Kirk/McCoy, NC-17)
Title: The Serendipity Effect
Author: Green
Fandom: ST XI
Pairing: Kirk/McCoy
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Kirk's consciousness gets stuck in McCoy's brain.
Notes: Thanks to Cynara for the awesome, awesome beta.
The slow and steady beep of machines did nothing to reassure McCoy. They would have, if the patient was anyone other than his best friend. Now, though, he only wanted Jim to open his eyes.
"Anything, Doctor?" asked Spock. McCoy jumped; he hadn't heard the Vulcan come into sickbay.
"Nothing," McCoy said. "All his vitals are within acceptable parameters, but he just... won't wake up."
"Mr. Scott is working to find answers," Spock said. "I am confident in his abilities."
McCoy scrubbed at his face. "Even if he does find out what went wrong with the transporter, I'm not sure what good it will do."
"Doctor?" Spock said, softer than his usual. "Perhaps you should get some rest. Your abilities will be compromised if you continue to go without sleep."
Considering he'd already injected himself with two doses of psychostimulants, McCoy nodded. "I'll take a nap."
***
His dreams were fuzzy, twisted things, full of half-memories and made-up fantasies. Through them all, though, he had a strong impression of Jim's presence.
Help me, Jim called. I'm here, Bones. Help me. The voice was weak and dripped through McCoy's dreams like a trickle of water.
When Bones woke, it was to gasp out Jim's name. His body was soaked with sweat, as if the running towards Jim's voice he'd done in his dreams had been reality.
He realized he was alone in his quarters once the dream faded. With the feeling of alone came the knowledge that Jim was in sickbay, suffering from the effects of the transporter accident.
With the echoes of Jim's dream voice following him, Bones took a shower and got dressed for work. When he looked in the mirror, he barely recognized himself.
***
McCoy treated four colds and one nasty cut before returning to Jim's bedside. He ran the usual battery of tests and came up with the same thing he'd been getting for four days: a whole lot of nothing.
Jim's chest rose and fell with every breath he took. He looked peaceful, like he had on so many mornings at the Academy, when he and McCoy shared a room.
"Just wake up, Jim," McCoy whispered. "Wake up for me."
There was no response. McCoy dimmed the overhead lights and sighed.
***
McCoy dreamed.
You haven't figured it out yet? Jim asked. They were both sitting crosslegged on Jim's bed in the Academy dormitory. Everything was the same: the sparse furniture, the utilitarian colors on the walls. The desk they shared was littered with McCoy's notes.
"Figured what out?" McCoy asked. "What are we doing here?"
You have to help me.
It came back to him: their trip to Vega 5, the transporter, the way Jim had felt in his arms when he collapsed on the transport pad. The way he looked - still and silent - on the hospital bed. The way he wouldn't wake up, no matter what.
"I don't know how to help you," McCoy said, leaning forward and taking one of Jim's hands in his own. "And this is just a dream."
No. You have to get me out of here. Jim spoke without moving his lips.
"Dammit, Jim," McCoy said, leaning in and pressing his forehead against Jim's. "I don't know how to save you."
Warm arms crept around McCoy's shoulders. I'm right here. You have to help me.
McCoy woke feeling Jim's arms around him. The dream tried to vanish, but he held on to it tightly. He felt ashamed, wanting to hold on to something that wasn't real. He never would have been so close to Jim in real life. But he would give anything for a good, real, clap on the shoulder from his friend.
***
McCoy was seated beside Jim's bed, reading from the medical database. His voice was beginning to crack. He stopped and took a break, sipping water from a paper cup. "I figure if I bore the hell out of you, you'll wake up and tell me to stop," he said. "Not the most reliable way of waking coma patients, but..."
He sighed and thumped Jim's hand. "Wake up, you bastard. Just wake up. If not for me, than for your ship. She misses you. Probably in my head, but the lights all look dimmer when you're not around. Scotty says she's sulking, and I'd listen to him if I was you."
There was no response. McCoy had stopped looking for them sometime around the fifth day.
"All right, be that way," McCoy said, then looked back down at his PADD. He cleared his throat. "I'm going to read about Urodelan flu now."
***
Help me, Bones.
"If I knew how to help you, I fucking well would!" McCoy said, getting to his feet. He paced the small dorm room and glared at Jim. "It's bad enough I spend all my waking hours trying to cure you, but you've got to fuck with my rest, too?"
I'm in your mind. Jim gave him an imploring look and held out a hand.
"I know you're in my mind," McCoy grumbled, but took Jim's hand anyway and allowed himself to be pulled back down to the bed. "You're in my dreams. That's normal, I guess."
I don't have a lot of time. I can only talk to you when you're asleep, Jim said. You don't hear me when you're awake.
"You're not making any sense," McCoy said, then laughed at himself. "Like dreams ever make sense."
Not a dream. I'm in your mind. My consciousness... it's with you.
"That's impossible," McCoy said. He noticed that Jim hadn't let go of his hand.
He woke, trying to hold on to Jim for a little while longer.
***
McCoy scanned Jim again, looking for anything out of the ordinary. Other than the coma, Jim was in good -almost immaculate - health.
He sighed and sat down on the edge of Jim's bed, taking his hand in his own. "I've been dreaming about you," he admitted softly. "Can't get you out of my head."
Two weeks had gone by, and still there was no change.
"Spock's running the ship. I won't say anything against the acting captain, but he's not you, Jim." He sighed and picked up his PADD. "Maybe some poetry today, okay? I'm sure you're tired of hearing about space flu."
Anything but medical babble, he thought he heard Jim say. He smiled to himself.
"Okay. I'm sure you like this one. 'My love has wings, slender, feathered things...'"
***
You heard me today, Jim said, pulling McCoy closer. You heard me, I know you did.
"I think I'm losing my mind," McCoy said. "I'm starting to think this is real."
Jim smiled and picked up a textbook from beside him. It was in the old style: an actual book. There weren't many of those around anymore.
"What's this?" McCoy asked, and read the cover. Symbiogenesis, it said in big blocky letters. "What are you trying to tell me?"
I'm in your mind, Bones, Jim said. And if you don't get me out soon, this is what's going to happen.
"Stop talking in riddles, man!" McCoy said, shaking him by the shoulders. "If you have something to say, just say it!"
You have to tell Scotty, Jim said. You have to tell him before it happens.
"Before what happens? What are you talking about?"
Calm down. You're going to wake up if you don't calm down.
McCoy set his jaw and looked into Jim's eyes. "Just tell me."
I don't know how it happened. That's up to Scotty to figure out.
"You don't know how what happened?"
I'm in your mind...
McCoy woke, panting and reaching out for Jim.
***
"I think I've finally lost it," McCoy said to Jim's sleeping form. It was 0400 and most of the ship was sleeping, too. McCoy had taken a cold shower and headed straight to sickbay after his dream.
I'm here.
"See that? I think I'm hearing you. Got to be losing it."
Bones.
McCoy sat on the bed and reached over, taking Jim's hands in his. "If you can hear me, you've got to wake up. I- Shit. I need you, okay? I need you to wake up."
"Doctor?" came a voice. McCoy looked up and saw Chapel, hovering over him worriedly. "Are you all right?"
McCoy carefully folded Jim's hands together and tried to look sane. "Just visiting."
I'm in your mind. C'mon, Bones. Help me.
"Do you need anything?" Chapel asked. She looked properly sympathetic, a good trait in a nurse. He wasn't looking for sympathy, though.
"I'm fine. I don't need anything. Just... leave us."
"Yes, Doctor," Chapel said, frowning a little.
Once she left, McCoy bent over Jim and spoke softly in his ear. "Jim?"
You can hear me. I'm right here, with you.
"Losing it," McCoy muttered.
I'm in your mind. You have to tell Scotty. Jim's voice sounded urgent now, desperate. You have to tell Scotty that I'm in your mind!
"And then what? I get put on psych leave indefinitely?" McCoy said angrily.
Tell him. Tell him about the symbiogenesis.
"I don't even know what that is! Computer!" he barked, getting up and going to the main viewscreen in the bay. "Display ... symbiogenesis."
A picture of an Andorian amoeba showed on the screen, followed by text. At least it was a real word; his mind wasn't making this much up.
It's a theory, Jim said in McCoy's mind. Scotty will know.
"Fine, I'll talk to Mr. Scott. But when I'm sitting in a goddamned padded room, you'd better keep me company."
***
The ship's computer led McCoy to Scotty's location. He was in the transporter room, despite the late - or early - hour.
He looked like hell. He hadn't shaved in days and it looked like he hadn't changed his uniform in just as long.
"Mr. Scott, have you been sneaking stims from medical bay?" McCoy asked as soon as he saw him.
"I'm up thanks to good old fashioned coffee, Doctor," Scotty said, standing a little bit straighter.
Tell him! came the insistent voice, and McCoy jumped.
"Dammit, Jim!" McCoy said, and got a quizzical look from Scotty.
"You all right there, Doctor?"
"Have you ever heard of symbiogenesis? In something other than amoebas?"
"Oh, aye," Scotty said. "There's a persistent theory in transportation technology that supports the claim that two organisms could merge during transport. It's all hogwash, if you ask me."
McCoy bit his lip hard and went on. "What if I told you that I think the Captain is in my mind? Would you still say it's 'hogwash'?"
Scotty frowned and looked closer at him. "Doctor, you don't look so good. What are you doing up so late, anyway?"
"The same as you," McCoy said. "Looking for answers. Have you found what malfunctioned in the transporter yet?"
"Not yet, but I will," Scotty said tiredly. "I've scoured everything over twice already, but I hear three times' a charm."
Tell him, you bastard!
"Alright! Look, Scotty," McCoy said slowly. "Is it possible that somehow the captain's consciousness got mixed up with mine when we beamed up from Vega 5? Because... because Jim's in my head. I can hear him."
Scotty sat down and stared at him. "In symbiogenesis theory, the entire organism merges together. Two in one. That means bodies, too. I've never heard of a consciousness mixing with another while leaving the body behind. Not even in theory."
If we don't get me out of here, I'm going to merge with you entirely! Tell him!
"Jim says... he says if we don't get him out of my mind, we'll merge entirely. What does that even mean?"
"It means - in theory, of course - that you'll cease to be two separate consciousnesses. You'll become one person." Scotty still looked doubtful.
Tell him he still owes me a bottle of Scotch.
McCoy rolled his eyes. "I'm a doctor, not a dictation machine."
"Doctor?" Scotty said warily.
"He says you owe him a bottle of Scotch."
Scotty's eyes narrowed. "What for?"
Because he stole mine and went drinking and God knows what else with Chekov.
McCoy snorted. "He says you and Chekov-"
"I believe you!" Scotty said quickly. "Don't need to drag my personal life into it."
"I'm not crazy?" McCoy asked. He still doubted it himself.
"Oh, you're still crazy," Scotty said with a grin. "But not about this."
***
McCoy slept.
Jim sat with him on the edge of his dorm room bed and grinned. I knew you wouldn't let me down, he said.
"You're my best friend and you're in a coma. I'll do anything to get you back," McCoy answered, and meant every word.
I've been in your mind long enough to know how you think of me.
McCoy swallowed down a surge of panic. "Yeah? That you're a pain in the ass egotistical fucker I just can't seem to get rid of?"
Jim smiled a little bit wider and wrapped an arm around McCoy's shoulders. You don't want to get rid of me.
"Can we not talk about it?" McCoy asked. "Because you have the advantage right now. I can't see into your mind."
The scene changed, but not dramatically. McCoy started when he saw himself - a younger, drunker version of himself - on the other bed.
Remember this? Jim said.
A wobbly Jim sat on the bed beside the younger McCoy and leaned over him. They clasped hands and Jim Kirk got closer, closer until the younger McCoy wrapped his arms around him and pressed his mouth to Jim's.
"Vaguely," McCoy said.
You can't lie to me. You think about it often. That's why we ended up here - your memories kept leading me back to our dorm room.
On the other bed, Jim was kissing back, sloppy and eager.
"What about you?" McCoy asked, looking away from the scene. "Do you think about it?"
I think about what could have been. I think about a lot of things. I always wondered if you remembered that night.
"It was just a kiss," McCoy said.
On the other bed, the younger McCoy passed out. The other Jim looked disappointed. The scene fuzzed out like an old twentieth century recording.
We could have been more than just friends.
"I see the way you treat the people you sleep with, Jim," McCoy said gruffly. "I never wanted to be another notch on your belt."
Is that what you think it would be? Jim asked, then frowned. No. I can see in your mind that it's not. You're... scared. Of what might happen.
"Stop doing that!" McCoy said, and woke up.
Sorry.
***
"Now that we know what went wrong, I'm sure I can figure out how to fix it," Scotty was saying to the room.
Spock raised an eyebrow. "How long until your calculations are finished, Mr. Scott?"
"I don't know," Scotty admitted. "Soon. I hope."
"You hope?" McCoy asked. "You'd better do more than hope, or I'll-"
"Doctor," Spock said. "While your concern is understandable considering your stakes in this matter, you should remain calm."
"I've had a chance to go over this theory of symbiogenesis by now, Spock," McCoy said, crossing his arms tightly. "My 'stakes' are even higher than you're giving me credit for. If we don't reverse this, I'm going to become a whole new person!"
"I have also reviewed the theory. Keep in mind that, while it seems like this is what is happening to you, it still remains a theory. There is no scientific evidence that you and Captain Kirk will merge."
Listen to him, Bones. He's the science officer. Just calm down.
McCoy flailed his arms. "Dammit, Jim! You're the one who came up with this in the first place!"
The others looked uncomfortable. McCoy glared at them, not caring if they heard him talking to Jim or not.
"I will be in the transporter bay," Scotty said, getting up and breaking the silence.
"I'm going back to bed," McCoy grumbled. "I haven't been getting any sleep lately."
Liar, Jim said.
***
"Why is it always here?" McCoy asked, gesturing to the dorm room. "Why not some pretty beach somewhere in the Pacific?"
It's familiar and comfortable to us both, I guess, Jim said. And you're a little fixated.
"I am not 'fixated'," McCoy grumbled.
Jim sighed and wrapped an arm around him. It was comfortable, and getting to be a familiar feeling now.
I want to kiss you.
"What?" McCoy said, looking at him. "Since when?"
Jim rolled his eyes and smiled. Since always, asshole.
"It's because you're in my mind," McCoy said, not really believing himself. "You know what I want, so you want it, too. Maybe our minds are-"
Shut up, Bones, Jim said, and leaned in for a kiss.
It was light, and strangely sweet. It wasn't at all what McCoy remembered from that drunken night. This was almost delicate.
McCoy sighed and opened his mouth to Jim's questing tongue. They met together slowly. McCoy was the one who pulled away.
"We can't be this," he said slowly. "We've gone past the point where we could be this to each other."
You're afraid of getting hurt again, Jim said. I read it in your thoughts.
"Then you know I can't do this with you," McCoy snapped, getting to his feet.
You think you don't have enough courage to love me, Jim said.
McCoy swallowed hard. "I didn't say anything about love." Then, shouting, "Wake up! Wake up!"
I'll still be with you when you're awake," Jim said.
***
McCoy woke. He scrubbed his face with both hands and looked at the clock. It was only 0430.
There were some files he had put off looking over the day before that he could check now. They were in sickbay, though, and that meant seeing Jim. He didn't know if he could handle that right now.
I'm right here. Stop acting like I'm not right here.
"Shut up," McCoy said under his breath. "Just shut the fuck up." It was a lot like having a very annoying invisible friend.
I heard that.
"Heard what? I didn't say anything," McCoy said crossly.
I can hear your thoughts. I'm getting stronger, you know. I bet I could-
McCoy's right hand lifted up off the bed. "Oh my God, what are you doing? Stop it!"
You don't have to be afraid. It's not like I'd hurt you or anything.
"This is already creepy enough," McCoy snapped. "I don't need you moving my body around, too."
Oh c'mon. It could be fun.
"Jim, your idea of fun and my idea of fun do not, and have never, meshed."
You lie a LOT. I never noticed how much you lie. To me and to yourself.
"I'm starting to wish I never met you," McCoy said, and slung his pillow over his face.
See?
***
McCoy held his head in his hands as the senior officers gathered into the ready room.
Once everyone was seated, Spock said, "Mr. Scott?"
"I'm 98.2% sure I have it figured out. That is, if the pattern buffers can be properly compensated for-"
"Spare us the technobabble," McCoy said. "The only one here who can keep up with you is Spock, and I'm sure you've already briefed him. Just tell us, can you do it?"
"Aye," Scotty said. "It might take a few tries, but I can do it."
McCoy slumped in relief. "When?"
"I'm ready when you are," Scotty said.
"So now? Now's a good time."
"I know you are eager, Doctor," Spock said, "but this is not to be taken lightly. There is still a chance this will not work. In fact, it could go terribly wrong."
"A 1.8% chance, right?" McCoy said. "I'll take those odds."
"Very well," Spock said, inclining his head. "Mr. Scott, if you and the doctor will follow me to sickbay, I believe we can begin."
I'm going to miss your mind, Jim said on the way to sickbay. It feels almost like home, now.
"We don't want you making yourself home in my brain," McCoy muttered under his breath. "That's what we're fixing."
Still. I'll miss it, Jim said wistfully.
***
It took less than five minutes to fix. After all the build-up, it felt almost anticlimactic.
McCoy rested in the bed next to Jim's, listening to Jim prattle on about how great it was to have his body back.
"Would you shut up?" McCoy said gruffly. He wasn't going to admit how relieved he was to have Jim back where he could see him. "I've heard enough of your voice lately."
"Liar," Jim said affectionately. "You're just as happy about this as I am."
"Yeah, but I'm tired," McCoy said. "Having to talk to you in every one of my dreams doesn't make for pleasant sleeping."
Jim turned over on his side, facing McCoy straight on. "I'll miss it."
"I won't," McCoy said, remembering the last dream.
Jim looked like he was about to say something meaningful, so McCoy glared at him. Jim closed his mouth. "Maybe we both should get some rest," he said instead.
Soon enough, McCoy was drifting off. He didn't dream.
***
The next day was long, almost tortuous. McCoy was released and went back to his quarters. He kept waiting to hear Jim's voice, but it never came. Over and over, he had to remind himself that Jim wasn't with him anymore.
He dealt with it by drinking.
He was on his fourth glass of whiskey when his door chimed. It opened before he could even ask who it was.
It was Jim, of course.
"I see you don't need this," Jim said, setting a bottle to the side. "Scotty paid up."
"What do you want?" McCoy asked when Jim sat on the bed next to him.
"The same things you want," Jim said, painfully earnest. It was almost enough to make McCoy kiss him then and there.
Almost. "Just because you spent time in my head doesn't make you an expert on me."
"Yes it does," Jim said with a smile. "I know everything you know. Or at least the important bits. I ... Look. I know you don't want to talk about it."
"Damn right, I don't," McCoy grumbled. He finished his glass with a long swallow and grimaced. He kept his eyes off Jim.
"Bones," Jim said, taking the glass and setting it on the nightstand. He rubbed his palms on his pants. "I know you don't want to talk about your... how you feel. I just want you to know I feel the same way."
"Stop it," McCoy said. It sounded weak to his ears.
"I've always felt it. If it takes a stint in your brain to figure you out, then okay. It's done, now."
"Jim..."
"And I know you're scared. But I'm not." He took a deep breath. "I know we'll be good together. We will."
"Stop talking like it's a done deal," McCoy said. He turned to look at Jim, whose eyes were as wide and honest as McCoy had ever seen them.
"I know everything you want," Jim said huskily. "And I want to give it to you."
McCoy leaned forward and rested his forehead against Jim's. "I can't lose you."
"I know. You won't," Jim said, sliding his fingers along McCoy's jawline. "I won't let you."
Hands on Jim's shoulders, McCoy leaned in the last fraction of an inch. His lips touched Jim's softly at first, and then urgently, pulling him in closer. One hand slipped around to cup the back of Jim's neck. He kissed him hard, seeking, wanting so much he could barely contain himself.
Jim's hands went to McCoy's shirt, lifting it up and touching wherever he could reach. Fingertips brushed up his stomach, across the center of his chest, and over a flat nipple. McCoy groaned.
"You know what I want," he said, half afraid and very turned on.
"Say it," Jim said, kissing his jaw. "Please say it."
"I want to fuck you," McCoy growled.
"Oh, God," Jim said, pulling him closer. "Yes."
"Clothes," McCoy said, pulling Jim's uniform shirt up over his head. He pulled his own off and then pressed against Jim, feeling the heat and smoothness of his skin.
"Mmm," Jim said, moving to straddle him, pressing him down against the bed. "Clothes." He moved his hand down to brush against McCoy's waistband, then down further to rub his erection through his pants. He worked the fly then, deftly opening it and exposing him.
His hand was quick and clever around McCoy's cock, moving maddeningly. "Jim," McCoy said, kissing him hard and pushing him down flat on the mattress. He got Jim's pants off and kissed his hip.
Jim's hand strayed over to the nightstand and grabbed the lube.
"How did you know where-?" McCoy asked, and Jim smiled and tapped his forehead.
McCoy kicked at his pants until they were off and sucked a bruise into Jim's hipbone. It was a pretty red by the time he was done.
Jim laughed and said something about him being territorial. "Damn right I am," McCoy mumbled, nuzzling Jim's flat stomach with his cheek.
They moved their hands over each other restlessly. Hot skin moved over hot skin and McCoy was aching with want.
McCoy grabbed the lube from the bed and slicked his fingers. He looked at Jim, almost sure he'd back out. But Jim just grinned and tucked his knees up, exposing himself and waiting.
He prepared Jim efficiently, without much style, and Jim arched to meet every thrust of McCoy's fingers.
"Enough," Jim said breathlessly. "Fuck me."
McCoy pushed him against the bed. Jim's knees were tight against his chest. McCoy lined up, tilting Jim's hips, and pressed the head of his cock to Jim's slick hole. He sank in, and only once he was in to the hilt did he stop to give Jim time to accommodate him.
"Bones," Jim said on a moan. "Fuck me, c'mon, do it..."
McCoy groaned and thrust faster, taking Jim's breath. Jim clung to his shoulders with the tips of his fingers, digging in. There would be marks.
Hands on Jim's hips, McCoy pulled out a ways and thrust in harder, grunting. Jim urged him on, hanging on tightly, his cock trapped between them.
The heat and tightness nearly sent McCoy over the edge. He wouldn't go without Jim, though. He fucked harder, gripping Jim's hips, and aimed for the sweet spot. He knew he found it when Jim thrashed under him and swore.
"Harder," Jim urged. "Please, Bones..."
McCoy moaned and fucked harder, moving Jim off the bed.
Jim came with a shout and clenched hard around McCoy's cock. McCoy followed, panting harshly.
They moved by silent consent, and McCoy rolled flat on his back. He pulled Jim close against his chest.
"So good. Knew it would be," Jim said, panting.
"It's not the sex I'm worried about," McCoy said.
Jim ran his fingertips over McCoy's cheek and said, "We're good. I'm not going anywhere."
McCoy tightened his arms around Jim and pressed his face into the other man's hair. "I'm going to hold you to that, you know."
"Counting on it."
The End
Author: Green
Fandom: ST XI
Pairing: Kirk/McCoy
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Kirk's consciousness gets stuck in McCoy's brain.
Notes: Thanks to Cynara for the awesome, awesome beta.
The slow and steady beep of machines did nothing to reassure McCoy. They would have, if the patient was anyone other than his best friend. Now, though, he only wanted Jim to open his eyes.
"Anything, Doctor?" asked Spock. McCoy jumped; he hadn't heard the Vulcan come into sickbay.
"Nothing," McCoy said. "All his vitals are within acceptable parameters, but he just... won't wake up."
"Mr. Scott is working to find answers," Spock said. "I am confident in his abilities."
McCoy scrubbed at his face. "Even if he does find out what went wrong with the transporter, I'm not sure what good it will do."
"Doctor?" Spock said, softer than his usual. "Perhaps you should get some rest. Your abilities will be compromised if you continue to go without sleep."
Considering he'd already injected himself with two doses of psychostimulants, McCoy nodded. "I'll take a nap."
***
His dreams were fuzzy, twisted things, full of half-memories and made-up fantasies. Through them all, though, he had a strong impression of Jim's presence.
Help me, Jim called. I'm here, Bones. Help me. The voice was weak and dripped through McCoy's dreams like a trickle of water.
When Bones woke, it was to gasp out Jim's name. His body was soaked with sweat, as if the running towards Jim's voice he'd done in his dreams had been reality.
He realized he was alone in his quarters once the dream faded. With the feeling of alone came the knowledge that Jim was in sickbay, suffering from the effects of the transporter accident.
With the echoes of Jim's dream voice following him, Bones took a shower and got dressed for work. When he looked in the mirror, he barely recognized himself.
***
McCoy treated four colds and one nasty cut before returning to Jim's bedside. He ran the usual battery of tests and came up with the same thing he'd been getting for four days: a whole lot of nothing.
Jim's chest rose and fell with every breath he took. He looked peaceful, like he had on so many mornings at the Academy, when he and McCoy shared a room.
"Just wake up, Jim," McCoy whispered. "Wake up for me."
There was no response. McCoy dimmed the overhead lights and sighed.
***
McCoy dreamed.
You haven't figured it out yet? Jim asked. They were both sitting crosslegged on Jim's bed in the Academy dormitory. Everything was the same: the sparse furniture, the utilitarian colors on the walls. The desk they shared was littered with McCoy's notes.
"Figured what out?" McCoy asked. "What are we doing here?"
You have to help me.
It came back to him: their trip to Vega 5, the transporter, the way Jim had felt in his arms when he collapsed on the transport pad. The way he looked - still and silent - on the hospital bed. The way he wouldn't wake up, no matter what.
"I don't know how to help you," McCoy said, leaning forward and taking one of Jim's hands in his own. "And this is just a dream."
No. You have to get me out of here. Jim spoke without moving his lips.
"Dammit, Jim," McCoy said, leaning in and pressing his forehead against Jim's. "I don't know how to save you."
Warm arms crept around McCoy's shoulders. I'm right here. You have to help me.
McCoy woke feeling Jim's arms around him. The dream tried to vanish, but he held on to it tightly. He felt ashamed, wanting to hold on to something that wasn't real. He never would have been so close to Jim in real life. But he would give anything for a good, real, clap on the shoulder from his friend.
***
McCoy was seated beside Jim's bed, reading from the medical database. His voice was beginning to crack. He stopped and took a break, sipping water from a paper cup. "I figure if I bore the hell out of you, you'll wake up and tell me to stop," he said. "Not the most reliable way of waking coma patients, but..."
He sighed and thumped Jim's hand. "Wake up, you bastard. Just wake up. If not for me, than for your ship. She misses you. Probably in my head, but the lights all look dimmer when you're not around. Scotty says she's sulking, and I'd listen to him if I was you."
There was no response. McCoy had stopped looking for them sometime around the fifth day.
"All right, be that way," McCoy said, then looked back down at his PADD. He cleared his throat. "I'm going to read about Urodelan flu now."
***
Help me, Bones.
"If I knew how to help you, I fucking well would!" McCoy said, getting to his feet. He paced the small dorm room and glared at Jim. "It's bad enough I spend all my waking hours trying to cure you, but you've got to fuck with my rest, too?"
I'm in your mind. Jim gave him an imploring look and held out a hand.
"I know you're in my mind," McCoy grumbled, but took Jim's hand anyway and allowed himself to be pulled back down to the bed. "You're in my dreams. That's normal, I guess."
I don't have a lot of time. I can only talk to you when you're asleep, Jim said. You don't hear me when you're awake.
"You're not making any sense," McCoy said, then laughed at himself. "Like dreams ever make sense."
Not a dream. I'm in your mind. My consciousness... it's with you.
"That's impossible," McCoy said. He noticed that Jim hadn't let go of his hand.
He woke, trying to hold on to Jim for a little while longer.
***
McCoy scanned Jim again, looking for anything out of the ordinary. Other than the coma, Jim was in good -almost immaculate - health.
He sighed and sat down on the edge of Jim's bed, taking his hand in his own. "I've been dreaming about you," he admitted softly. "Can't get you out of my head."
Two weeks had gone by, and still there was no change.
"Spock's running the ship. I won't say anything against the acting captain, but he's not you, Jim." He sighed and picked up his PADD. "Maybe some poetry today, okay? I'm sure you're tired of hearing about space flu."
Anything but medical babble, he thought he heard Jim say. He smiled to himself.
"Okay. I'm sure you like this one. 'My love has wings, slender, feathered things...'"
***
You heard me today, Jim said, pulling McCoy closer. You heard me, I know you did.
"I think I'm losing my mind," McCoy said. "I'm starting to think this is real."
Jim smiled and picked up a textbook from beside him. It was in the old style: an actual book. There weren't many of those around anymore.
"What's this?" McCoy asked, and read the cover. Symbiogenesis, it said in big blocky letters. "What are you trying to tell me?"
I'm in your mind, Bones, Jim said. And if you don't get me out soon, this is what's going to happen.
"Stop talking in riddles, man!" McCoy said, shaking him by the shoulders. "If you have something to say, just say it!"
You have to tell Scotty, Jim said. You have to tell him before it happens.
"Before what happens? What are you talking about?"
Calm down. You're going to wake up if you don't calm down.
McCoy set his jaw and looked into Jim's eyes. "Just tell me."
I don't know how it happened. That's up to Scotty to figure out.
"You don't know how what happened?"
I'm in your mind...
McCoy woke, panting and reaching out for Jim.
***
"I think I've finally lost it," McCoy said to Jim's sleeping form. It was 0400 and most of the ship was sleeping, too. McCoy had taken a cold shower and headed straight to sickbay after his dream.
I'm here.
"See that? I think I'm hearing you. Got to be losing it."
Bones.
McCoy sat on the bed and reached over, taking Jim's hands in his. "If you can hear me, you've got to wake up. I- Shit. I need you, okay? I need you to wake up."
"Doctor?" came a voice. McCoy looked up and saw Chapel, hovering over him worriedly. "Are you all right?"
McCoy carefully folded Jim's hands together and tried to look sane. "Just visiting."
I'm in your mind. C'mon, Bones. Help me.
"Do you need anything?" Chapel asked. She looked properly sympathetic, a good trait in a nurse. He wasn't looking for sympathy, though.
"I'm fine. I don't need anything. Just... leave us."
"Yes, Doctor," Chapel said, frowning a little.
Once she left, McCoy bent over Jim and spoke softly in his ear. "Jim?"
You can hear me. I'm right here, with you.
"Losing it," McCoy muttered.
I'm in your mind. You have to tell Scotty. Jim's voice sounded urgent now, desperate. You have to tell Scotty that I'm in your mind!
"And then what? I get put on psych leave indefinitely?" McCoy said angrily.
Tell him. Tell him about the symbiogenesis.
"I don't even know what that is! Computer!" he barked, getting up and going to the main viewscreen in the bay. "Display ... symbiogenesis."
A picture of an Andorian amoeba showed on the screen, followed by text. At least it was a real word; his mind wasn't making this much up.
It's a theory, Jim said in McCoy's mind. Scotty will know.
"Fine, I'll talk to Mr. Scott. But when I'm sitting in a goddamned padded room, you'd better keep me company."
***
The ship's computer led McCoy to Scotty's location. He was in the transporter room, despite the late - or early - hour.
He looked like hell. He hadn't shaved in days and it looked like he hadn't changed his uniform in just as long.
"Mr. Scott, have you been sneaking stims from medical bay?" McCoy asked as soon as he saw him.
"I'm up thanks to good old fashioned coffee, Doctor," Scotty said, standing a little bit straighter.
Tell him! came the insistent voice, and McCoy jumped.
"Dammit, Jim!" McCoy said, and got a quizzical look from Scotty.
"You all right there, Doctor?"
"Have you ever heard of symbiogenesis? In something other than amoebas?"
"Oh, aye," Scotty said. "There's a persistent theory in transportation technology that supports the claim that two organisms could merge during transport. It's all hogwash, if you ask me."
McCoy bit his lip hard and went on. "What if I told you that I think the Captain is in my mind? Would you still say it's 'hogwash'?"
Scotty frowned and looked closer at him. "Doctor, you don't look so good. What are you doing up so late, anyway?"
"The same as you," McCoy said. "Looking for answers. Have you found what malfunctioned in the transporter yet?"
"Not yet, but I will," Scotty said tiredly. "I've scoured everything over twice already, but I hear three times' a charm."
Tell him, you bastard!
"Alright! Look, Scotty," McCoy said slowly. "Is it possible that somehow the captain's consciousness got mixed up with mine when we beamed up from Vega 5? Because... because Jim's in my head. I can hear him."
Scotty sat down and stared at him. "In symbiogenesis theory, the entire organism merges together. Two in one. That means bodies, too. I've never heard of a consciousness mixing with another while leaving the body behind. Not even in theory."
If we don't get me out of here, I'm going to merge with you entirely! Tell him!
"Jim says... he says if we don't get him out of my mind, we'll merge entirely. What does that even mean?"
"It means - in theory, of course - that you'll cease to be two separate consciousnesses. You'll become one person." Scotty still looked doubtful.
Tell him he still owes me a bottle of Scotch.
McCoy rolled his eyes. "I'm a doctor, not a dictation machine."
"Doctor?" Scotty said warily.
"He says you owe him a bottle of Scotch."
Scotty's eyes narrowed. "What for?"
Because he stole mine and went drinking and God knows what else with Chekov.
McCoy snorted. "He says you and Chekov-"
"I believe you!" Scotty said quickly. "Don't need to drag my personal life into it."
"I'm not crazy?" McCoy asked. He still doubted it himself.
"Oh, you're still crazy," Scotty said with a grin. "But not about this."
***
McCoy slept.
Jim sat with him on the edge of his dorm room bed and grinned. I knew you wouldn't let me down, he said.
"You're my best friend and you're in a coma. I'll do anything to get you back," McCoy answered, and meant every word.
I've been in your mind long enough to know how you think of me.
McCoy swallowed down a surge of panic. "Yeah? That you're a pain in the ass egotistical fucker I just can't seem to get rid of?"
Jim smiled a little bit wider and wrapped an arm around McCoy's shoulders. You don't want to get rid of me.
"Can we not talk about it?" McCoy asked. "Because you have the advantage right now. I can't see into your mind."
The scene changed, but not dramatically. McCoy started when he saw himself - a younger, drunker version of himself - on the other bed.
Remember this? Jim said.
A wobbly Jim sat on the bed beside the younger McCoy and leaned over him. They clasped hands and Jim Kirk got closer, closer until the younger McCoy wrapped his arms around him and pressed his mouth to Jim's.
"Vaguely," McCoy said.
You can't lie to me. You think about it often. That's why we ended up here - your memories kept leading me back to our dorm room.
On the other bed, Jim was kissing back, sloppy and eager.
"What about you?" McCoy asked, looking away from the scene. "Do you think about it?"
I think about what could have been. I think about a lot of things. I always wondered if you remembered that night.
"It was just a kiss," McCoy said.
On the other bed, the younger McCoy passed out. The other Jim looked disappointed. The scene fuzzed out like an old twentieth century recording.
We could have been more than just friends.
"I see the way you treat the people you sleep with, Jim," McCoy said gruffly. "I never wanted to be another notch on your belt."
Is that what you think it would be? Jim asked, then frowned. No. I can see in your mind that it's not. You're... scared. Of what might happen.
"Stop doing that!" McCoy said, and woke up.
Sorry.
***
"Now that we know what went wrong, I'm sure I can figure out how to fix it," Scotty was saying to the room.
Spock raised an eyebrow. "How long until your calculations are finished, Mr. Scott?"
"I don't know," Scotty admitted. "Soon. I hope."
"You hope?" McCoy asked. "You'd better do more than hope, or I'll-"
"Doctor," Spock said. "While your concern is understandable considering your stakes in this matter, you should remain calm."
"I've had a chance to go over this theory of symbiogenesis by now, Spock," McCoy said, crossing his arms tightly. "My 'stakes' are even higher than you're giving me credit for. If we don't reverse this, I'm going to become a whole new person!"
"I have also reviewed the theory. Keep in mind that, while it seems like this is what is happening to you, it still remains a theory. There is no scientific evidence that you and Captain Kirk will merge."
Listen to him, Bones. He's the science officer. Just calm down.
McCoy flailed his arms. "Dammit, Jim! You're the one who came up with this in the first place!"
The others looked uncomfortable. McCoy glared at them, not caring if they heard him talking to Jim or not.
"I will be in the transporter bay," Scotty said, getting up and breaking the silence.
"I'm going back to bed," McCoy grumbled. "I haven't been getting any sleep lately."
Liar, Jim said.
***
"Why is it always here?" McCoy asked, gesturing to the dorm room. "Why not some pretty beach somewhere in the Pacific?"
It's familiar and comfortable to us both, I guess, Jim said. And you're a little fixated.
"I am not 'fixated'," McCoy grumbled.
Jim sighed and wrapped an arm around him. It was comfortable, and getting to be a familiar feeling now.
I want to kiss you.
"What?" McCoy said, looking at him. "Since when?"
Jim rolled his eyes and smiled. Since always, asshole.
"It's because you're in my mind," McCoy said, not really believing himself. "You know what I want, so you want it, too. Maybe our minds are-"
Shut up, Bones, Jim said, and leaned in for a kiss.
It was light, and strangely sweet. It wasn't at all what McCoy remembered from that drunken night. This was almost delicate.
McCoy sighed and opened his mouth to Jim's questing tongue. They met together slowly. McCoy was the one who pulled away.
"We can't be this," he said slowly. "We've gone past the point where we could be this to each other."
You're afraid of getting hurt again, Jim said. I read it in your thoughts.
"Then you know I can't do this with you," McCoy snapped, getting to his feet.
You think you don't have enough courage to love me, Jim said.
McCoy swallowed hard. "I didn't say anything about love." Then, shouting, "Wake up! Wake up!"
I'll still be with you when you're awake," Jim said.
***
McCoy woke. He scrubbed his face with both hands and looked at the clock. It was only 0430.
There were some files he had put off looking over the day before that he could check now. They were in sickbay, though, and that meant seeing Jim. He didn't know if he could handle that right now.
I'm right here. Stop acting like I'm not right here.
"Shut up," McCoy said under his breath. "Just shut the fuck up." It was a lot like having a very annoying invisible friend.
I heard that.
"Heard what? I didn't say anything," McCoy said crossly.
I can hear your thoughts. I'm getting stronger, you know. I bet I could-
McCoy's right hand lifted up off the bed. "Oh my God, what are you doing? Stop it!"
You don't have to be afraid. It's not like I'd hurt you or anything.
"This is already creepy enough," McCoy snapped. "I don't need you moving my body around, too."
Oh c'mon. It could be fun.
"Jim, your idea of fun and my idea of fun do not, and have never, meshed."
You lie a LOT. I never noticed how much you lie. To me and to yourself.
"I'm starting to wish I never met you," McCoy said, and slung his pillow over his face.
See?
***
McCoy held his head in his hands as the senior officers gathered into the ready room.
Once everyone was seated, Spock said, "Mr. Scott?"
"I'm 98.2% sure I have it figured out. That is, if the pattern buffers can be properly compensated for-"
"Spare us the technobabble," McCoy said. "The only one here who can keep up with you is Spock, and I'm sure you've already briefed him. Just tell us, can you do it?"
"Aye," Scotty said. "It might take a few tries, but I can do it."
McCoy slumped in relief. "When?"
"I'm ready when you are," Scotty said.
"So now? Now's a good time."
"I know you are eager, Doctor," Spock said, "but this is not to be taken lightly. There is still a chance this will not work. In fact, it could go terribly wrong."
"A 1.8% chance, right?" McCoy said. "I'll take those odds."
"Very well," Spock said, inclining his head. "Mr. Scott, if you and the doctor will follow me to sickbay, I believe we can begin."
I'm going to miss your mind, Jim said on the way to sickbay. It feels almost like home, now.
"We don't want you making yourself home in my brain," McCoy muttered under his breath. "That's what we're fixing."
Still. I'll miss it, Jim said wistfully.
***
It took less than five minutes to fix. After all the build-up, it felt almost anticlimactic.
McCoy rested in the bed next to Jim's, listening to Jim prattle on about how great it was to have his body back.
"Would you shut up?" McCoy said gruffly. He wasn't going to admit how relieved he was to have Jim back where he could see him. "I've heard enough of your voice lately."
"Liar," Jim said affectionately. "You're just as happy about this as I am."
"Yeah, but I'm tired," McCoy said. "Having to talk to you in every one of my dreams doesn't make for pleasant sleeping."
Jim turned over on his side, facing McCoy straight on. "I'll miss it."
"I won't," McCoy said, remembering the last dream.
Jim looked like he was about to say something meaningful, so McCoy glared at him. Jim closed his mouth. "Maybe we both should get some rest," he said instead.
Soon enough, McCoy was drifting off. He didn't dream.
***
The next day was long, almost tortuous. McCoy was released and went back to his quarters. He kept waiting to hear Jim's voice, but it never came. Over and over, he had to remind himself that Jim wasn't with him anymore.
He dealt with it by drinking.
He was on his fourth glass of whiskey when his door chimed. It opened before he could even ask who it was.
It was Jim, of course.
"I see you don't need this," Jim said, setting a bottle to the side. "Scotty paid up."
"What do you want?" McCoy asked when Jim sat on the bed next to him.
"The same things you want," Jim said, painfully earnest. It was almost enough to make McCoy kiss him then and there.
Almost. "Just because you spent time in my head doesn't make you an expert on me."
"Yes it does," Jim said with a smile. "I know everything you know. Or at least the important bits. I ... Look. I know you don't want to talk about it."
"Damn right, I don't," McCoy grumbled. He finished his glass with a long swallow and grimaced. He kept his eyes off Jim.
"Bones," Jim said, taking the glass and setting it on the nightstand. He rubbed his palms on his pants. "I know you don't want to talk about your... how you feel. I just want you to know I feel the same way."
"Stop it," McCoy said. It sounded weak to his ears.
"I've always felt it. If it takes a stint in your brain to figure you out, then okay. It's done, now."
"Jim..."
"And I know you're scared. But I'm not." He took a deep breath. "I know we'll be good together. We will."
"Stop talking like it's a done deal," McCoy said. He turned to look at Jim, whose eyes were as wide and honest as McCoy had ever seen them.
"I know everything you want," Jim said huskily. "And I want to give it to you."
McCoy leaned forward and rested his forehead against Jim's. "I can't lose you."
"I know. You won't," Jim said, sliding his fingers along McCoy's jawline. "I won't let you."
Hands on Jim's shoulders, McCoy leaned in the last fraction of an inch. His lips touched Jim's softly at first, and then urgently, pulling him in closer. One hand slipped around to cup the back of Jim's neck. He kissed him hard, seeking, wanting so much he could barely contain himself.
Jim's hands went to McCoy's shirt, lifting it up and touching wherever he could reach. Fingertips brushed up his stomach, across the center of his chest, and over a flat nipple. McCoy groaned.
"You know what I want," he said, half afraid and very turned on.
"Say it," Jim said, kissing his jaw. "Please say it."
"I want to fuck you," McCoy growled.
"Oh, God," Jim said, pulling him closer. "Yes."
"Clothes," McCoy said, pulling Jim's uniform shirt up over his head. He pulled his own off and then pressed against Jim, feeling the heat and smoothness of his skin.
"Mmm," Jim said, moving to straddle him, pressing him down against the bed. "Clothes." He moved his hand down to brush against McCoy's waistband, then down further to rub his erection through his pants. He worked the fly then, deftly opening it and exposing him.
His hand was quick and clever around McCoy's cock, moving maddeningly. "Jim," McCoy said, kissing him hard and pushing him down flat on the mattress. He got Jim's pants off and kissed his hip.
Jim's hand strayed over to the nightstand and grabbed the lube.
"How did you know where-?" McCoy asked, and Jim smiled and tapped his forehead.
McCoy kicked at his pants until they were off and sucked a bruise into Jim's hipbone. It was a pretty red by the time he was done.
Jim laughed and said something about him being territorial. "Damn right I am," McCoy mumbled, nuzzling Jim's flat stomach with his cheek.
They moved their hands over each other restlessly. Hot skin moved over hot skin and McCoy was aching with want.
McCoy grabbed the lube from the bed and slicked his fingers. He looked at Jim, almost sure he'd back out. But Jim just grinned and tucked his knees up, exposing himself and waiting.
He prepared Jim efficiently, without much style, and Jim arched to meet every thrust of McCoy's fingers.
"Enough," Jim said breathlessly. "Fuck me."
McCoy pushed him against the bed. Jim's knees were tight against his chest. McCoy lined up, tilting Jim's hips, and pressed the head of his cock to Jim's slick hole. He sank in, and only once he was in to the hilt did he stop to give Jim time to accommodate him.
"Bones," Jim said on a moan. "Fuck me, c'mon, do it..."
McCoy groaned and thrust faster, taking Jim's breath. Jim clung to his shoulders with the tips of his fingers, digging in. There would be marks.
Hands on Jim's hips, McCoy pulled out a ways and thrust in harder, grunting. Jim urged him on, hanging on tightly, his cock trapped between them.
The heat and tightness nearly sent McCoy over the edge. He wouldn't go without Jim, though. He fucked harder, gripping Jim's hips, and aimed for the sweet spot. He knew he found it when Jim thrashed under him and swore.
"Harder," Jim urged. "Please, Bones..."
McCoy moaned and fucked harder, moving Jim off the bed.
Jim came with a shout and clenched hard around McCoy's cock. McCoy followed, panting harshly.
They moved by silent consent, and McCoy rolled flat on his back. He pulled Jim close against his chest.
"So good. Knew it would be," Jim said, panting.
"It's not the sex I'm worried about," McCoy said.
Jim ran his fingertips over McCoy's cheek and said, "We're good. I'm not going anywhere."
McCoy tightened his arms around Jim and pressed his face into the other man's hair. "I'm going to hold you to that, you know."
"Counting on it."
The End
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*happy sigh* Just lovely.
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