Talal || Star Trek: AOS

Bones

Everything was a blur as panic and urgency took hold. Commands were shouted, and nobody ever seemed to comply fast enough.

Get him on that biobed!

Out of the cryotube! Now!

Restrain him!

Get me some of that blood!

Run it through this!

Hurry it up you fools!

He was vaguely aware of himself snapping and growling at anyone he deemed too slow, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He had a life to save dammit!

"The serum is ready, Doctor McCoy," Nurse Chapel - bless her soul - pressed an old hypodermic needle in his palm, the clear liquid holding so much hope. He didn't wait as he removed the protective casing on the needle, removed the little air that had gathered, and grabbed the Captain's arm.

Everyone watched with bated breath as he slid the sharp metal into the basilic vein, injecting the augmented human's platelets into the stagnant blood stream. This was all they had left.

They had hoped and they had tried, so very hard. But all of their efforts were in vain.

In the corner of the room, ignored by all, a Tribble breathed on, cooing and rolling in the corner. So very much alive, unlike the one they tried to save.

James T. Kirk, captain of the U.S.S. Enterprise , was always a lucky man. Everyone knew it; no one could deny it. As a wise poet once wrote back in the 1300s - so long ago - all good things must come to an end. And it did.

Leonard "Bones" McCoy said nothing to the people around him as he contemplated this thought. Their whispers and comforting looks couldn't reach him where he was, a place where he had withdrawn into his own mind while nursing an untouched glass of scotch - so unlike him but he couldn't bring himself to care. His gaze never wavered from its spot on the floor, eyeing the frayed rug between his shiny shoes. Shoes, that he got only for this one occasion, he was sure he'd burn once everything was over.

He had done everything in his power to fix this, but for once, not only did Jim's luck fade, but his own as well. It only takes one time for everything to fail, of course.

"Bones?"

The man almost started - but he was too damn tired - as he was brought out of his trance. Suddenly, the whispers were too loud and the stares were burning like hot iron. Nyota looked at him, concern tightening her features. The black dress she wore - always that God awful black - complimented her figure in a lovely way, but none of that mattered to anyone. Not in this moment. Never, in this moment.

"We're about to have a toast," Spock - the infuriating, green-blooded hobgoblin that he was - approached silently from behind the beautiful woman, a mug of steaming chocolate gripped tightly in his hands. Bone knew that mug, and he knew that the thin crack that marred the words 'me boss, you not' was not there before. He had bought it for Jim as a gag Christmas present the year before, and just remembering the joy and laughter caused a lump to form in his throat and a stinging to blur his vision.

"Okay," Was all he could manage as he stood, following the steady flow of people into the living room, where Jim's lifeless body lie - he wasn't ready to face his failure again. His voice cracked and he wasn't sure if it was from disuse, or his sobbing the night prior.

He hardly knew anyone here in this small room. There was Scotty in the corner, for once silent and staring into space, his energy gone. Young Pavel and Hikaru were with him, the latter comforting the other with a hand hooked on his elbow, whose eyes glistened with barely held back tears. He thinks that's George - Sam, he remembers - against the wall with his wife, despondent in their chattering. Near them was Winona - fucking bitch, she was never there for him - who gazed out of the window with a blank gaze. If he didn't know better, Bones would have thought he was looking at Spock. But since he did, he knew that if he were to turn around and really look at the Vulcan, he would see so much emotion . Pain, anger, sadness, fear...

But there were other people here who he didn't know, and most certainly didn't appreciate being here. There were children who, in their naivete didn't understand the situation at hand, fidgeted in place, uncomfortable with the emotions whirling around the room. His lip curled in distaste when an older couple nearby were talking about the Captain's - not anymore - party life. What did they know? They didn't know Jim Kirk like his senior officers did; like Leonard did.

Blue eyes scanned the room, searching faces for any sort of familiarity, but found none. With nothing to occupy his vision, his attention was drawn to the corpse in the middle of the room. The lump in his throat hardened and an ugly sob came forth unbidden. Thankfully, no one paid him any attention, he wasn't sure how much he could handle anymore.

So focused on getting his demeanor under control, he almost didn't notice when Spock brushed past him, the smell of chocolate left in his wake. The half-human stopped once he reached Jim's head, a hand stiffly reaching for the lax face before pulling back at the last second.

"Good evening and welcome all," His baritone voice was quiet but effectively stopped all conversation. Briefly, Bones wondered why the First Officer was presenting the eulogy, but then he remembered that neither Winona nor Sam had prepared one. Couldn't bear it, they had said. God, he hated the woman even more now, "I will hope that tonight, we can mourn the Captain's - Jim's - life as it was, instead of as it could be."

In this heavy pause, Leonard allowed himself to take a deep breath and prepare himself for the words that were to represent all of them. He might as well have been delivering the speech himself, and was mighty glad he didn't have to.

"When I first met Jim, he was a cadet. Most that he met could only see him as the famous George Kirk's son, not bothering to look past this fact and see him for who he truly was. I was no different. I am ashamed of myself to say that my first impression of him was that he was brash, undisciplined, and highly illogical," Spock sighed and gripped the mug tighter, and Bone thought he could hear the ceramic squeal in protest, "Captain James Kirk was his own man, full of life and love. He treated his crew with the utmost respect, like we were family. And if I may speak on behalf of the Enterprise 's crew, we felt the very same. No, he was not a perfect man, nor did he try to be one. He understood his flaws, and embraced them with all he had. Very few humans that I have met have been able to act in such a way.

"Over these last couple of years, I have had the chance to know the man I called my Captain. He was most fond of our chess games, he loved 20th century classic rock, he was allergic to strawberries, and he prefered vanilla over any other flavour of ice cream," A few chuckles, one that Leonard couldn't even stop from escaping his own lips, "He took a few minutes of his time to talk to a yeoman every day, he was exceptionally skilled with younglings of every species, he didn't believe in no-win scenarios, and he did not hesitate to offer up his own life to ensure the lives of everyone on his ship."

He could hear Chekov whimper, and a quick glance in his direction showed Sulu slipping a shaking arm around his shoulders. Neither were comforted by the motion - who could be, looking at Jim's blank face?

Bones felt cool air ghost across his cheeks. He raised a hand to wipe at it, only to realize he was crying. Not here, not now.

"As a Vulcan, the teachings of Surak taught me that undisciplined emotions were illogical, and that I must exercise utter control over my reactions. I had touted, merely days before, that fear of death was as such, because all of us must meet our end one day. Yet, as I watched him die, separated by a thick sheet of glass that saved the rest of us from irradiation, I failed in not feeling. I cried, and I screamed. I pursued the man responsible, and attempted to destroy him with my bare hands.

"I let myself be compromised, because Jim was my friend. As he always will be."

The Vulcan's brown eyes refused to meet anyone's in the room, heavy with sadness and regret. He looked as if he wanted to say more, but nothing more was said. The silence seemed to stretch for hour, when in all reality it was two minutes, "To James Tiberius Kirk," Shut up Bones, what are you doing, "The greatest captain a crew could ever ask for. Our greatest friend and the greatest man to ever live."

"To James," Was the monotonous response, their glasses raised in the air in a toast to a man long gone. For the first time that evening, McCoy downed the scotch in his glass, grimacing at the taste. The ice had long since melted.

He didn't move from his spot as people meandered their way to the kitchen, eager to drown their sorrows in the comfort that was food. He would join them later.

Right now, he wanted to wallow in self-pity and despite what Spock had said, he also wanted to think about what could have been.