21Apologies for the delay in getting this up, for some reason this chapter hadn't been saved with the others, and I had to track it down. Many thanks to everyone at The Beta Branch for making this legible, and thank you to my readers for all the support for this fic, I hope you enjoy this chapter.
Disclaimer: I still own nothing.
On the first day he's sure McCoy is fine.
"Jim, get the hell out of my Sickbay."
Or as fine as he can be while trying to find a cure for a deadly alien plague. "C'mon Bones, it's me."
McCoy doesn't even look at him, preoccupied as he is with the numerous test tubes and data files scattered all across his desk. "Not now."
The warning in his voice is very clear, but Kirk knows his friend and he knows exactly how far he can push this. "Bones, you haven't left this place all day. A five minute break won't hurt."
He sees the indecision on McCoy's face before the physician in him takes charge. "Fine. But just five minutes." He slumps down into the nearest chair and closes his eyes. Kirk perches very carefully on the edge of the table; he knows from experience how grouchy McCoy gets when his stuff is moved and the doctor's temper is quite bad enough already.
"You all right?"
"Yeah, I'm all right," McCoy mumbles. "Just gotta get this damn thing to work."
Kirk's eye is caught by a rack of vials set apart from the rest. "Is that it?"
McCoy's scowl deepens. "Yeah, pure samples. One of those could infect over six thousand people."
"Six thousand? And you've just got it lying around?" He can't believe his admittedly incorrigible CMO would be careless with something that dangerous, but one look at McCoy is enough to make him clamp his mouth shut. The expression on McCoy's face could stop a charging Klingon.
"It only affects Mandorites," he spits. "Damn it, Jim, do you really think I'd have something that dangerous to the crew out in the open?"
Kirk feels his cheeks heat up and he looks down. "Right. Sorry."
McCoy gives a long sigh and tilts his head back. "Me too." He rubs his eyes, stress evident in every line of his body. "Haven't been able to take a break since this stuff arrived."
Kirk frowns at him, the first warning bells starting to ring. "Bones, that was nearly thirteen hours ago. Please tell me you haven't been working on it all this time."
"Jim, this plague has infected over eight thousand people," McCoy snaps back. "What do you expect me to do, take a three course meal? Watch a movie?"
"Of course not, but you can't keep going like this. Take a break, get some food, just don't drive yourself to collapse." He takes a deep breath, forcing the concern from his voice; he knows McCoy won't appreciate it right now. "You're not a Vulcan, Bones."
"No, but I am a doctor. Unlike you."
"Bones-"
"I know what I'm doing, Jim. Just let me do my job."
Kirk looks at him. Thirteen hours of solid stress have taken their toll, but he recognises the fire burning in his best friend's eyes. "All right," he says quietly. "But at least promise me you'll eat something."
Some of the tension drains from McCoy's body. "I will."
"And get some sleep."
"Jim-"
"Do I need to make it an order?"
"I swear they had a course on this at the Academy, something about misuse of authority."
Kirk glares at him. "I prefer to call it looking after my crew."
McCoy continues to glare back. "Pity you can't feel such consideration for your own health," he mutters, but there's amusement mingled with the exasperation and Kirk allows himself to relax slightly.
"Well, why don't you start setting a good example?"
McCoy snorts. "Five minutes are up. Get outta here."
Kirk is sorely tempted to stay, but he's aware that he's already pushed his luck today. He gets to his feet and claps McCoy on the shoulder. "You'll do as I said?"
McCoy rolls his eyes. "Don' exactly have much choice, do I?" Despite his words he leans into Jim's touch for a moment before shaking himself and standing up. "Right. Back to work."
"Yeah." Kirk looks round at the mass of data surrounding them and shudders. Running a starship is easy compared to all this. "Good luck, Bones."
He's going to need it.
On the third day, Kirk begins to realise that there may be a problem.
"Bones-"
"Don't you have a ship to run?"
He suppresses the desire to remind McCoy he's talking to his commanding officer. The doctor looks so out of it Kirk's amazed he's still standing. "Bones, when was the last time you slept?"
"I don't have time to sleep!" McCoy snarls. "Not unless you want thousands of people to die slow, horrible deaths."
Kirk glances at Spock and is glad to see his own concern mirrored in the Vulcan's eyes. Both had been confused when Chapel called them down to the medbay, but Kirk was now very grateful that she had. McCoy was still working like a madman, but there could be no doubt that he was rapidly nearing exhaustion. "Bones, you promised me you were going to be careful."
He's careful to keep the accusation from his voice but McCoy still shoots him a filthy look. "Told you I'd eat. I did. Now clear off and let me work."
"I believe that would be unwise, Doctor," says Spock. "Computer records show that you have not returned to your quarters for 76.62 hours."
"And none of the lab staff have seen you stop once," Kirk adds. "Bones, you can't go over three days without sleep."
"Can too."
"Doctor-"
"Bones-"
"I'm trying to develop a cure for a goddam plague!" McCoy explodes. "I don' have time for you bargin' in here an' tellin' me how ta do my job!"
"And what good is driving yourself to the point of collapse going to do?" Kirk shouts back. Spock shoots him a look of Vulcan dismay at their volume but he ignores it; McCoy is practically dead on his feet and Kirk refuses to let him do any more damage.
"I'm fine!"
Any other time and Kirk would find the statement hysterical. He could count on one hand the number of times he's seen his friend looking less fine; McCoy is literally swaying on his feet, the shadows under his eyes are almost black, and his accent is as pronounced as Kirk has ever heard it.
Now he simply decides it's time for drastic measures. "Doctor McCoy, I am ordering you to get some sleep."
For a long moment McCoy only stares at him, his eyes darkening with shock. "What?"
Kirk steps forward, summoning every ounce of authority he possesses. "I gave you a direct order."
McCoy glares at him, the shock rapidly darkening to anger. "This is a medical matter, Captain."
He's right, but if nothing else the defiance proves just how far gone McCoy is. Kirk glances at Spock, and it's a mark of how much their relationship has improved that Spock only betrays the slightest flicker of unease at what Kirk is silently asking him to do. Kirk returns his attention to the fuming doctor, spreading his hands in a placating manner. "Why don't we all just calm down?"
McCoy scowls and turns away. "Why don' you let me do my job?"
Kirk glances at Spock but the Vulcan is already moving. McCoy doesn't even have time to turn back before Spock nerve pinches him into oblivion. The doctor crumples immediately, but Spock is there and somehow Kirk isn't at all surprised by the gentleness with which he lifts McCoy into his arms. "Thank you, Spock," he says quietly. They would have had to sedate him otherwise, and that would have been a lot harder to get away with.
"No thanks are necessary, Captain. I agree that the doctor's need for rest was greater than he was admitting."
Kirk sighs and trails him over to the nearest bio-bed. "He'd have collapsed in a couple of hours if we hadn't."
"Indeed." He deposits McCoy very carefully on the bio-bed, but there's a faint frown on his face when he turns to Kirk. "Captain, I do not believe Doctor McCoy has been eating regularly."
Kirk closes his eyes for a moment. "Now why doesn't that surprise me?"
"Because you know Doctor McCoy."
The unexpected reply startles a smile from him. "That would be it." He looks down at his unconscious friend and sighs. Trust McCoy to be so invested in a planet of strangers that he completely neglects his own health.
There's a soft footstep behind him and he tenses automatically as Nurse Chapel enters the room. He might be the captain, but she, like all the medical staff, are devoted to their CMO. He doesn't think knocking McCoy unconscious was quite what she had in mind when she called them down. To his surprise, though, undeniable relief crosses her face at the sight off McCoy asleep on the bio-bed.
"Thank you, Captain," she says softly. "We've been trying to convince him to rest, but you know how he is." She gives him an expressive look, and Kirk manages a small smile.
"Yeah, I do." He looks back to McCoy and feels his hands clench into fists. While he understands and admires his friend's dedication, there is no way he's allowing this to continue. "Who else is working on this?"
Spock raises an eyebrow. "Everyone. However, Doctor McCoy remains the only person who combines both the relevant research experience and the medical knowledge necessary to develop a cure."
"Doctor M'Benga specialises in Vulcans," Chapel reminds him gently. "Doctor McCoy has far more experience with research of this kind."
That isn't the answer he wanted. "Spock, you're the Science Officer. Isn't there anything-"
"Captain, while I do have some knowledge of medical biochemistry, it is far from my area of expertise." He sounds as frustrated with his own lack of knowledge as it's possible for a Vulcan to sound, and it's more than enough for Kirk to regret his impatience.
"I know. Sorry, Spock."
Spock inclines his head. "No apologies are unnecessary, Captain. You are not the only one who finds the current situation troubling."
Kirk has to smile. It's taken months, and more life and death situations than he can count, but Spock and McCoy are finally starting to get along. Kind of. They still fight like cats and dogs, but they are capable of showing concern for each other, even if neither of them will ever admit it. His smile fades as he looks at McCoy. He just wishes it hadn't taken these circumstances. "What are we going to do when he wakes up?"
He isn't surprised when neither of them meet his gaze. They've all been on the receiving end of a McCoy fury. Spock clasps his hands behind his back. "I would suggest we inform the doctor that we will not hesitate to resort to such measures again should he persist in overworking himself."
Chapel winces. "He's not going to like that."
"He doesn't have to like it," says Kirk quietly. "I'm not letting him do this again."
Chapel doesn't protest, but his face clearly betrays her scepticism. Kirk can't blame her. McCoy is really not going to be happy, but Kirk honestly doesn't care. If he's not going to look after himself, Kirk will just have to do it for him.
After all, it's not like there's anything else he can do to help. Not with this.
On the seventh day, Kirk begins to understand.
"Goddamn it."
Kirk is instantly on the alert. It's been hours since McCoy last spoke, other than to bark instructions down the intercom to the labs, and the tension in his voice is unmistakeable. "Bones? What is it?"
McCoy shoots him a venomous glare. "It's not working."
Kirk knows better than to take it personally. "Bones, sit down."
McCoy fumes silently, but throws himself into a chair. Kirk lets out a silent sigh of relief; McCoy might have been furious over their intervention a few days ago, but he had got the message. He suspects his friend still isn't sleeping more than two or three hours a night, but even that's better than nothing. Kirk perches on the desk next to him. "I thought you said you'd found a cure."
"We have," McCoy ground out.
"Well, that's great!"
"It's not enough!"
Kirk bites his lip. Most of the medical staff had been jubilant about the discovery, but Chapel had reported that McCoy had immediately returned to work. "Bones," he says quietly. "What's wrong?"
For a moment McCoy looks tempted to ignore him, but then his shoulders slump. "It's not a full cure," he says. "It only works if administered within a few hours of catching the disease."
"That's still good-"
"Jim, the symptoms don't start showing for nearly a day. Sure, this is great for preventing it from spreading, but there are still thousands of people who are already infected, and even more who don't even realise it." He stares up at Jim, his hazel eyes dark with helpless fury. "I can't stop yet."
Kirk pinches the bridge of his nose. He really should have known. "I get it, Bones. Really, I do. But you're exhausted. You can't keep doing this."
"I have to! And don't you dare let that hobgoblin get me again or I will have you eating nothing but salad for a month."
Kirk has no doubt that McCoy would follow through on that threat, and he has to force himself not to snap. "This is your health-"
"Which of us is the damn doctor?"
Kirk has to draw on all the self-control he's learned over the past couple of years to keep from saying what's on his mind. He can see why McCoy is so stressed, but a doctor should know better than to get himself on this state. As if sensing his thoughts, McCoy sighs and leans forward to rest his arms on his knees. "Sorry," he says softly. "Been a rough week."
Kirk allows himself to relax slightly. "I'm not counting." He shuffles over to grip McCoy's shoulder. "You've done good, Bones. As in, really good." How many other people could create a cure, even a partial one, from scratch like McCoy has? But McCoy's shoulders slump and he looks away.
"Not good enough." He gets abruptly to his feet. "I need to get back to work."
"What? Bones, you've been at this all the day."
"People are still dying, Jim. And they're going to keep dying unless we find something that actually works."
Kirk opens his mouth to point out yet again that sleep is kind of important, but pauses. For one thing McCoy is hardly likely to listen any better than he had the first dozen times, but there's something else. Jim has known McCoy for years. He knows better than anyone the lengths McCoy will go to for his patients. It isn't unusual for him to skip meals, or go without sleep, if he thinks it will help, much as he has been doing for the past week. But all Kirk's instincts are screaming that there's something else going on.
Kirk has learned to trust his instincts.
"Bones," he says quietly. "What's going on?"
"I told you-"
"I know people are dying. I want to know why you're taking this so personally."
McCoy glares at him, but Kirk doesn't back down. Something is going on here, and it's about time he found out what it is. He folds his arms and juts his chin forward and dares McCoy to tell him he's wrong.
McCoy is many things, but he's not an idiot. His shoulders slump and he looks down. "I took a closer look at Mandorite health regulations. Turns out there's a few causes they never mentioned."
Kirk feels his stomach clench. "Explain."
McCoy seems to hunch into himself. "It's an emergency protocol designed to limit the spread of an infection." A muscle in his jaw twitches. "Bastards."
"Bones," says Kirk again. "What is it?"
McCoy takes a deep even breath. "What you need to understand is that this disease doesn't kill quickly. The symptoms don't even begin to show for over a day. But it's incredibly contagious. The rate at which it spread through the population-"
"Bones," Kirk interrupts, because he has a horrible feeling he knows where this is going and if so he understands exactly what McCoy has been doing, "tell me what they can do."
"The government has up to fifteen days to secure the epidemic," says McCoy, and the pain in his voice makes Kirk feel sick. "Then extreme measures can be taken to ensure it doesn't spread further."
"How?"
McCoy looks up, and there's utter desolation in his eyes. "By killing all the infected people."
On the tenth day they find a cure. On the tenth day, Kirk knows it's only just beginning.
"How is he?"
Chapel's face is drawn with stress and fatigue, but her only concern is for her CMO. "I don't think he's had more than eight hours sleep in the past week. The stimulants and caffeine are the only reasons he's still upright." She turns to him, and her blue eyes are almost grey as they meet his. "Sir, he's going to crash, and he's going to do so hard."
It's about what he expected. It doesn't make it any easier to hear. Next to him, Spock shifts in an almost human manner. "That amount of stimulants will have serious consequences for his health."
Kirk only nods. The one time he went with stimulants over sleep for more than three days McCoy gave a truly inspired lecture on exactly how much damage he was doing to himself. He never dared to do so again. He can't even imagine doing it for a week. "He doesn't get to yell at me for at least a month."
"I really don't think that's going to be a problem," says Chapel softly.
Kirk sighs and straightens up. "Let's just get this over with."
McCoy exhibits no surprise when Kirk enters his office with Spock. Kirk is actually quite impressed that he's conscious at all all things considered, but any relief dies at the utter blankness in the doctor's eyes. Spock pauses at the door while Kirk walks round the desk to crouch in front of his friend. "Hey, Bones."
McCoy doesn't reply, doesn't respond in the slightest, and Kirk feels his concern rising. With an effort, he keeps his voice level. "Bones? It's me."
A low sigh escapes McCoy's lips. "Not like anyone can forget you."
Kirk manages a small smile. "How you doing?"
One of McCoy's shoulders rises in something that might just about pass as a shrug. "Tired. Be fine." His words are barely coherent. Kirk reaches out to grip his shoulder, and this time McCoy leans into him, too drained to resist. "Overdid it."
"Yeah, but you did it. You found the cure."
McCoy shakes his head. "Wasn' fast enough."
"Nobody could have done more than you did, Doctor," says Spock softly. He's left the doorway to stand just behind Kirk, and Kirk is grateful for the support. "Your efforts were remarkable."
Coming from Spock that's extraordinary praise, and in any other circumstances McCoy would be all over it, but this time he just shakes his head. "People died."
"They won't any more, thanks to you," Kirk insists, but he already knows it won't do any good. McCoy is far too out of it to think rationally about anything right now. Spock evidently has the same thought, for his addition is very gentle.
"Doctor, it might be advisable for you to return to your quarters."
Kirk will be amazed if McCoy can manage that, but he knows that suggesting he stays in the medbay will not go down well. As it is McCoy just sighs and closes his eyes. "Yeah."
"Agreeing with Spock," says Kirk lightly. "Now I know you're tired."
McCoy glares at him, but it's impossible to look threatening when you can't even focus on your victim. "Shuddup, Jim."
Kirk rolls his eyes and rises to his feet. "Come on. Let's get you out of here."
McCoy blinks blearily up at him. "Can' I just stay here?"
Kirk exchanges a weary glance with Spock before reaching down to pull McCoy up. "Come on, Bones. Bed is nice, remember?"
He expects McCoy to swat him, or at least glare at him. He doesn't expect McCoy's eyes to roll back in his head as he topples forward in a boneless heap.
Fortunately, Spock is a little more alert, and McCoy doesn't end up with a concussion on top of everything else. The Vulcan's only reaction is to frown at Kirk. "Captain, the doctor has lost even more weight."
Kirk sighs and pulls McCoy's arm round his shoulders. He knows Spock is more than capable of doing it himself, but he needs to do something to help. "Great."
The two of them have barely gotten McCoy onto the nearest bio-bed before Chapel joins them, her face almost white as she starts running scans. Kirk is careful to accommodate her, but he finds himself incapable of moving out of arms' reach of his friend. "Is he-"
"He'll be fine, Captain," she says, without looking at him. "But I doubt he'll wake up for a day or two, and those stimulants will leave him a bit run-down for a while."
Kirk swallows. "Damn it, Bones."
Chapel's expression softens and she reaches out to touch his arm. "He will be all right, Captain. We'll take good care of him."
Kirk can only nod. McCoy will get the best care possible; Chapel and the others practically worship the ground he walks on, though he's sure they'll have something to say about just how reckless their CMO has been. Kirk's got a few things he wants to say too.
Maybe it'll make him feel even a little bit better about not being able to do anything else.
Thanks for reading! Any feedback would be appreciated.
