little writer boy

the room is completely different from the usual medbay. for one, it’s bigger. from the length at which he can turn his head—which really isn’t much—he can make out a much wider, less cluttered space. it’s almost cozy if it didn’t pair so well with the immense headache that he had woke up with. needless to say, it was clear they weren’t on the enterprise.

jim opens his mouth to talk but nothing comes out, his throat too dry. mostly, he just said and made zombie-like noises at his friend till he took a hint, and with a lifted eyebrow gathered a glass of room temperature water to his mouth. the glass is tipped gently at an angle. jim moved his hands up around the glass once he’s able, but they both know after being unconscious for who knows how long that he doesn’t have the immediate strength to hold it up on his own.

bones takes the glass away when he seems to have gotten enough. then he crosses his arms over his chest, brow raised and asks a simple, “you were saying?”

“how, uh, how long have i been here? where is here? and what exactly happened? and where’s spock?” jim seems a bit more frantic with every question he asks, he craned his neck and his shoulders in a weak, upwards motion, eventually propping himself up on his elbows. his doctor sighs.

bones pulled over a chair and sat. he put a hand on jim’s arm and gives him a soft, though tired, look. “don’t worry, darlin’ you haven’t been here long. it’s been two days—or about two and a half if you’re counting to the exact time like the green hobgoblin has,” bones looks a little annoyed at the mention of spock but continues, “we’re in san francisco, it was easier to get you to a nearby hospital rather than back on the ship. you passed out at starfleet board meeting discussing a far out earth colony that has been set for a rescue mission.” leonard looked a little cautious, as if he were strategically making note of where exactly to place his words in a less intimidating order.

jim’s heart raced a tad faster with every moment of silence bones refused to fill in. “yeah?” he couldn’t help but let a little fear seep out with his words, staring at bones a little knowingly. “yeah so what, a rescue mission? that’s nothing i can’t handle. i’m sure my blood sugar was too low or there was something in the air or food that i was allergic to, right? and that’s why i passed out?” jim proceeded his own diagnosis like a short circuit. he didn’t really know what he was saying and he was falling into autopilot, but he needed confirmation still. “right, bones?”

leonard shook his head and let out a stifled sigh. he wanted to drag out the unknowing as long as he was able to, not for suspense but simply because he hated seeing his best friend so hurt. he always got a cloudy look in his eye at the mention of it. it was as if a part of jim died and remained on the ghost colony with all the other souls—and in some ways this was true. “jim, you lost conciseness at the mention of the planet’s similarity to that of tarsus iv,” bones finally spat out. jim stiffened