miss_m_cricket (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
miss_m_cricket) wrote2009-08-03 10:33 pm
miss_m_cricket) wrote2009-08-03 10:33 pm
Fic: Reaper of Bones
Title: Reaper of Bones
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
miss_m_cricket
Fandom: Star Trek Reboot! / Doom Crossover.
Rating: R for language and goriness
Pairing: will be Reaper!McCoy/James T. Kirk
Disclaimer: Own neither Doom, nor Star Trek.
Summary: Starfleet has ordered the Enterprise to Mars to reactivate the Olduvai facility and Bones is once again forced to face his demons...
A/N: The scenes of Reaper and Jumper and the rest of the squad in the Amazon are official Doom canon in the novelisation. However because I am not a copy cat, I only took the dialogue lines from the book. The actions follow the book plot but are written entirely by me.
A/N 2: Italics in the beginning parts of this chapter are scenes from "Doom" the novelisation.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
Reaper of Bones
”They insisted on these fucking M-100’s.” Reaper muttered to Duke as the squad moved through the rainforest towards a clearing. Raising a hand to signal the others, the dark haired Sergeant paused at the edge of the open space, wiping the humidity from his face. “These rifles, I think we’re the goddamn test drive...”
“We’re testing these weapons?” Duke responded incredulously, looking down at the fancy, shining gun in his hand. “You mean all they did was, like, fire at some targets somewhere?”
“That’s what I mean.” John Grimm nodded, “M-100 hasn’t been significantly field tested. Meaning not tested for reaction to humidity for starters.”
“And goddamn if it ain’t humid here.”
“We should’ve brought our regular ordnance, left these in the...” Reaper’s voice trailed off as his eyes caught a glimpse of a figure. “Hold on, you see something move, over about three o’clock, under that tree there?”
Duke looked at him with a raised eyebrow, which Reaper mirrored back at him. “That tree? That’s like pointing out a snowflake in a blizzard.”
Reaper rolled his eyes.
“The yellowish one that’s leaning. Duke, look, two frog hairs to the left...”
“I make the tree but I don’t see any...wait. Yeah. There’s someone there...I see a weapon! Let’s hit cover John.”
Reaper signalled the others and they melted back into the shadows, but too late. Machine gunfire ripped through the undergrowth, fired from the direction of the spotted guerrilla.
“Anyone hit?” Reaper barked into his mic, sounding uncannily like Sarge in that moment.
“No.”
“Negative...How many are there?”
“No telling. Portman, Duke, you head northeast, see if you can flank them, you other guys with me...But not you, Jumper...”
“Yes sir?”
“Jumper, I’m just a Sergeant, and you don’t have to call me sir, goddammit...”
“Hey, I like calling you sir; you’re such a macho hotpants of a swingin’ dick.” The red haired man smirked at his best friend who rolled his eyes.
“And you’re a talented comic. Now lay some fire down over at three o’clock, don’t expose yourself...”
Jumper gave his best friend a look; he knew the order was just Reaper fussing, since firing would expose Jumper to the enemy.
“Deploying...sir.”
Reaper rolled his eyes once more as Jumper slipped away through the trees, machine gun fire rattling through the trees.
“Permission to return fire, sir.” Destroyer grunted softly, giving Reaper a lopsided grin.
“Nah, not yet, bro. You and Goat watch my six, I’m going to push their lines, see how far I can get before they push back...”
“Roger that.”
Reaper disappeared into the underbrush, hurrying through the green tunnel, listening to the rattle of gunfire as Jumper fired on the guerrillas and they returned it.
Suddenly he came around a tree and there was a young guerrilla whose face went white with fear and shot at him wildly. Moving instinctively, Reaper whipped his machine gun up and fired a short burst. The boy fell back with an awful twist of his back.
Over a log Goat came, gun butt raised in case the boy still had some fight in him, but lowered it. The boy had been torn apart and was writhing in agony, Reaper standing over him with an indefinable expression on his face.
Their insta-translators, another UAC technology that the company insisted they wear on this mission, broadcasted the boys babbling into the men’s headsets.
“I’m sorry. Sorry I let them know we were there...I made up for it Uncle didn’t I? I made them come to me...”
And Reaper felt the blood drain from his own face.
A trap.
Raising his gun he put a bullet into the boy’s forehead, ending the babbling and the moans of pain and turned, racing back for the clearing, touching his headset as he called to Jumper.
“Jumper! They are flanking you! We were decoyed over here, they’re...”
“I’ve got ‘em Reaper.” Jumper’s voice was slightly distorted on the comm., “I can hold ‘em til you get here.” Gunfire sprayed through the jungle around him, sounding in the comm. From Jumper’s side as well, “...I can hold ‘em if...Dammit...it quit on me again!”
“What? What quit on you?!”
“This fucking M-100, John it’s jamming...it’s...I can’t get the grenade launcher to work either! Oh fuck here they come...where’s Duke? Duke! Portman!”
“Reaper don’t go out there!” Destroyer yelled, but Reaper ignored him racing out into the clearing, headless of trip mines and the bullets that chopped the grass up in his wake. He was yelling down the headset to Duke, asking him to get to Jumper, receiving a negative and a frantic cry that the gun was only working every third round.
A bullet whizzed past his nose, and he twisted, trying his guns grenade launcher. It worked and a scream met his ears from where he launched it. But he was still running, reaching the other side of the clearing.
He broke into the forest, yelling Jumper’s name, swearing and stumbling as he broke into another small clearing and finds Jumper leaning up against a tree.
The upper half of his head had been blown clear off. Just some nose left, a blood drooling mouth.
The guerrilla who had killed Jumper turned to see Reaper racing at him. That was when Reaper’s gun jammed but it didn’t matter. Fuelled by blind rage Reaper smashed the gun butt into the man’s forehead, smashing it in as he whirled throwing his gun into the face of another guerrilla charging him.
He drew his sidearm, his pistol and fired two shots blowing two heads apart, but the clearing was getting flooded by guerrillas. Suddenly Goat and Destroyer were there, firing, their guns working, but Reaper doesn’t see them.
He is reaping a killing field. Firing and screaming, firing and screaming until the green grass and leaves were awash with blood and there was no one left to slaughter.
And only then did Reaper sink to his knees and cover his face with his bloody hands.
It’s his fault. All his fault.
~*~
Bones came awake with a loud gasp and tumbled out of this bed, sheets wrapped around his legs. He thudded to the floor, and lay there, fingers curling into the short Starfleet regulation carpet. His body shook with repressed sobbing, that he fought down viciously.
He had not dreamed of Jumper in years.
Bitterly he damned Olduvai, damned himself for re-awakening Reaper who he had so firmly pushed away for more than a century. He had embraced Reaper, and that meant dealing with Reaper’s baggage; his grief over losing his best friend, his guilt over how he had died and his most recent actions in infecting Jim.
Feeling emotionally wrung out he got to his feet and made his way into the shower, letting the sonic refresher wash away the old memories of a time so long ago. But he couldn’t wash away the sight of the boy he had killed, or the sight of Jumper against his tree.
He went to work very grumpy that day.
Tending to the injured from Olduvai took his mind off his troubles for a little while. Healing was his way of atoning for the lives he had taken and ruined during his years as Reaper, and now also for Jim’s life which he had so spectacularly fucked up.
As he worked he ran through ideas in his mind. How to disappear off the ship without that blasted Vulcan or Jim knowing? It seemed practically impossible. He needed to give Jim as many years of normalcy he could until his best friend would turn into a fugitive like him.
A walking science experiment.
A perfect fucking weapon.
God how he hated himself.
~*~
Jim watched Bones from the Med-bay doorway, seeing the tension in his best friend’s shoulders. With the C-24 enhancing his body he could see the dark bruising under the dark eyes, a sign of a bad night, or several bad nights, sleeping.
He wasn’t much better.
Bones had shut him out, completely closed him off from any kind of personal contact. Professionally he was still as awesome as ever, meeting Jim’s gaze with dark eyes that were cool with distance. But the instant Jim reached out to touch him, or called him Bones, or did anything beyond the bounds of Captain and CMO, his best friend pulled away, ran away.
Spock agreed, it just wasn’t logical. Jim had already been enhanced; his chances of being in another life threatening situation were now considerably lower. Ignoring him now, was just not sensible.
Since when had sense ever governed emotions though?
So Jim walked confidently into the med-bay and saw Bones back tense even more. He could hear Bones heartbeat, warm and solid, deeper and more measured than the others around. Enhanced heartbeat he thought with fascination. And he could smell Bones too, that coffee mixed with alcohol rich chocolate scent of him that practically radiated off him.
Jim felt his heart clench.
God how he loved this man.
~*~
“Bones.” Jim greeted him, walking over and clapping his shoulder, like nothing had changed.
McCoy shrugged the hand off, moving away, ignoring the hurt expression that was on Jim’s face. This was for the best, best for his stupid, reckless, feckless...
He loved Jim, adored him even. How could he have condemned him to this immortal hell that he lived in? Haunted by regrets for the rest of his existence.
“Captain.” His voice was cold, “What brings you to the med-bay? You are not injured, or sick.”
He couldn’t get injured or sick, Bones thought with a twist of pleasure mixed with pain. What did he need a Doctor for now?
“My best friend is being a jackass.” Jim grumbled, walking around to face him, those blue eyes probing his face.
“Please go away Captain.” Was the cool reply as Bones moved away from the younger man, lifting his PADD and studying it carefully. Jim had been dismissed, brushed off, maybe now he would realize that Bones was being serious, that being friends, best friends, was a bad, dangerous idea and he ruthlessly pushed away that little voice in his head that cried that he wanted Jim to be so much more than just a best friend.
Jim had admitted his love in Olduvai, something that Bones had returned. He had meant it, had meant it with all his heart, but love was dangerous. His love had made him infect the one person he truly cared about. His love and his inability to live without James T Kirk.
Now Jim would live forever, condemned, shunned, or coveted as a weapon or genetic prize.
And it was his fault.
“Don’t you walk away from me!”
A hand gripped his shoulder and whirled him around to face a pair of furious blue eyes. It was then that he realized, really realized, what he had done. A week or two ago, before Olduvai, he would have been able to shrug off Jim’s hand, would have been able to dominate him physically within a few heartbeats.
But now Jim had the same synthetic chromosome elevating his body’s skills. It would take a real contest now to see who came out of it the victor. And he could see in Jim’s eyes that core of steely determination that showed up whenever it really mattered.
Jim would not allow him to stage an elaborate death and disappear into the depths of space. Whereas before, Spock would have been his only physical competition, now the odds were against him with two strong males seemingly determined to keep him on board.
“You are being, completely illogical Bones!” Jim hissed at him, and Bones could see the rest of the medical personnel, quietly slip away, leaving them both alone in the suddenly silent med-bay, apart from the unconscious injured crew who had made it out of Olduvai. “Yes illogical!” Jim stormed, as Bones opened his mouth, “And I know I sound like Spock, and I know it’s not what you want to hear, but I need you Bones. I need you. And this is killing me more than that monster on Olduvai.”
Bones flinched and Jim stepped away.
“John Grimm, Leonard McCoy, Bones, Reaper…It’s all part of you. You are still my best friend. And when you realize that, you know where to find me.”
And Jim walked out of the room leaving Bones standing alone in the centre of his med-bay dark eyes staring at the door that had closed behind him.
~*~
Bones cursed himself for not knowing what was happening sooner.
Returning to Earth he had known that he and the rest of the Senior Staff on the mission to Olduvai would be examined as to what had happened in the abandoned facility, and then as to why the centre had been so spectacularly destroyed. He had known that, and yet he had not known that Starfleet had another use for him and for Jim.
“Please read this Doctor.” The Admiral in charge of the enquiry said, handing down a document to the curious Bones standing below. It was a Final Report, written by Acting Captain Spock, dated the day of their return from Olduvai, when Jim had still been in the C-24 induced coma. And while Bones had been quietly brewing over his choices down in Hell.
As he read the document he felt his heart stop several times. Exposed. After over 200 years of keeping his secret safe from anyone who might use him as a tool he had been exposed. And not only him. Jim too had been revealed as an enhanced being.
He was going to tear Spock apart.
Security grabbed his arms, how had they gotten so close to him? Dammit he was losing his edge. So distracted by reading that he hadn’t even noticed possible hostiles coming up on his flanks. He really had to work on that.
Another Doctor, one he knew vaguely from his time in the Academy moved towards him and that was when he began struggling in earnest. “Doctor we need a sample from you.” The Admiral barked as Bones snarled, wrenching himself away from the Doctor with the syringe.
“No!” Bones yelled before a hypospray pressed to his neck and he felt himself falling into darkness.
His last conscious thought was of Jim, and how he understood now his friend’s hatred of forcible sedation.
~*~
Bones awoke to find himself bound to a bio-bed, restraints that would hold down a strong Vulcan proving able to hold him down. Especially in his weakened state. The sedative swam sluggishly through his veins and he let out a low groan. Instantly footsteps moved over to beside his bed and he saw Jim and Spock. Jim looked pale and Spock had a tightness around his mouth that told Bones everything that he needed to know.
“Bones…” Jim looked around, and in a moment a third figure appeared there before him. The Doctor from before. He remembered her now. Dr Julia Young, head of genetics. His stomach lurched.
“I have a few questions for you Mr Grimm.” She said coolly, stylus poised above her PADD, “And then we need to run a few more tests.”
Grimm. Fuck.
“My name is Leonard McCoy.” He growled, hearing the rasp in his voice. “I know of no Grimm.” Jim shook his head and Bones felt his heart drop even more. Aw hell, this wasn’t good.
“Name: John Leonard Grimm.” The Doctor said dryly, consulting her PADD, “Born: 2020, Earth. Parents: David Horatio Grimm and Susanne Amanda Grimm, maiden name McCoy. Sibling: Samantha Delia Grimm. We ran your DNA against the records Mr Grimm, and our sources include the old fingerprint and blood match identification of the Marine Corps.”
He could feel his heart pounding against his throat. This was the nightmare that he and his sister had so bitterly fought to keep from reaching the hands of the authorities. C-24 was too big a prize to let slip away, they would want to harness it, tame it.
“Bones.” Jim moved up towards his best friend and Bones eyes snapped to his. “Bones…”
“Why aren’t you strapped down Jim?” the Doctor found his voice once more, hating the small quiver in it. “What the fuck is going on here!”
“Mr Grimm I need you to calm down.” Dr Young barked in that tone of voice that all Doctors learnt to calm down unruly patients, “Nothing bad is going to happen, you have my word on that.”
“Your word.” Reaper snarled, feeling trapped and getting that tight panicking knot under his breastbone. Reaper hated being trapped, if he had a fear it was that, “Your word, how am I supposed to trust that!”
“Bones, they just want to take a look...” Jim tried to reassure him and Reaper thrashed in his bindings.
“Dammit Jim! I am a Doctor not some goddamn science experiment!”
Dr Young moved forward, a hypospray in her hand and Reaper stilled, watching her with dark eyes. “We are not going to hurt you Mr Grimm, Dr McCoy.” The woman murmured. It was the soothing voice that men used with wild creatures that might startle at any moment. Reaper shivered against his bindings but did not thrash again, “We have no desire to replicate, duplicate or study the C-24 you carry. Captain Kirk and Commander Spock gave detailed testimonials about the dangers of it. And Starfleet agrees that the risk is much too great.”
Bones stared at her, and then at Jim and then at Spock. All three nodded, Jim with a sad expression in his eyes. He out of all of them knew what it meant to run, to hide, and to fear for your life.
“What do you want.” He asked, his voice hoarse.
Part 6
Author:
miss_m_cricketFandom: Star Trek Reboot! / Doom Crossover.
Rating: R for language and goriness
Pairing: will be Reaper!McCoy/James T. Kirk
Disclaimer: Own neither Doom, nor Star Trek.
Summary: Starfleet has ordered the Enterprise to Mars to reactivate the Olduvai facility and Bones is once again forced to face his demons...
A/N: The scenes of Reaper and Jumper and the rest of the squad in the Amazon are official Doom canon in the novelisation. However because I am not a copy cat, I only took the dialogue lines from the book. The actions follow the book plot but are written entirely by me.
A/N 2: Italics in the beginning parts of this chapter are scenes from "Doom" the novelisation.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
Reaper of Bones
”They insisted on these fucking M-100’s.” Reaper muttered to Duke as the squad moved through the rainforest towards a clearing. Raising a hand to signal the others, the dark haired Sergeant paused at the edge of the open space, wiping the humidity from his face. “These rifles, I think we’re the goddamn test drive...”
“We’re testing these weapons?” Duke responded incredulously, looking down at the fancy, shining gun in his hand. “You mean all they did was, like, fire at some targets somewhere?”
“That’s what I mean.” John Grimm nodded, “M-100 hasn’t been significantly field tested. Meaning not tested for reaction to humidity for starters.”
“And goddamn if it ain’t humid here.”
“We should’ve brought our regular ordnance, left these in the...” Reaper’s voice trailed off as his eyes caught a glimpse of a figure. “Hold on, you see something move, over about three o’clock, under that tree there?”
Duke looked at him with a raised eyebrow, which Reaper mirrored back at him. “That tree? That’s like pointing out a snowflake in a blizzard.”
Reaper rolled his eyes.
“The yellowish one that’s leaning. Duke, look, two frog hairs to the left...”
“I make the tree but I don’t see any...wait. Yeah. There’s someone there...I see a weapon! Let’s hit cover John.”
Reaper signalled the others and they melted back into the shadows, but too late. Machine gunfire ripped through the undergrowth, fired from the direction of the spotted guerrilla.
“Anyone hit?” Reaper barked into his mic, sounding uncannily like Sarge in that moment.
“No.”
“Negative...How many are there?”
“No telling. Portman, Duke, you head northeast, see if you can flank them, you other guys with me...But not you, Jumper...”
“Yes sir?”
“Jumper, I’m just a Sergeant, and you don’t have to call me sir, goddammit...”
“Hey, I like calling you sir; you’re such a macho hotpants of a swingin’ dick.” The red haired man smirked at his best friend who rolled his eyes.
“And you’re a talented comic. Now lay some fire down over at three o’clock, don’t expose yourself...”
Jumper gave his best friend a look; he knew the order was just Reaper fussing, since firing would expose Jumper to the enemy.
“Deploying...sir.”
Reaper rolled his eyes once more as Jumper slipped away through the trees, machine gun fire rattling through the trees.
“Permission to return fire, sir.” Destroyer grunted softly, giving Reaper a lopsided grin.
“Nah, not yet, bro. You and Goat watch my six, I’m going to push their lines, see how far I can get before they push back...”
“Roger that.”
Reaper disappeared into the underbrush, hurrying through the green tunnel, listening to the rattle of gunfire as Jumper fired on the guerrillas and they returned it.
Suddenly he came around a tree and there was a young guerrilla whose face went white with fear and shot at him wildly. Moving instinctively, Reaper whipped his machine gun up and fired a short burst. The boy fell back with an awful twist of his back.
Over a log Goat came, gun butt raised in case the boy still had some fight in him, but lowered it. The boy had been torn apart and was writhing in agony, Reaper standing over him with an indefinable expression on his face.
Their insta-translators, another UAC technology that the company insisted they wear on this mission, broadcasted the boys babbling into the men’s headsets.
“I’m sorry. Sorry I let them know we were there...I made up for it Uncle didn’t I? I made them come to me...”
And Reaper felt the blood drain from his own face.
A trap.
Raising his gun he put a bullet into the boy’s forehead, ending the babbling and the moans of pain and turned, racing back for the clearing, touching his headset as he called to Jumper.
“Jumper! They are flanking you! We were decoyed over here, they’re...”
“I’ve got ‘em Reaper.” Jumper’s voice was slightly distorted on the comm., “I can hold ‘em til you get here.” Gunfire sprayed through the jungle around him, sounding in the comm. From Jumper’s side as well, “...I can hold ‘em if...Dammit...it quit on me again!”
“What? What quit on you?!”
“This fucking M-100, John it’s jamming...it’s...I can’t get the grenade launcher to work either! Oh fuck here they come...where’s Duke? Duke! Portman!”
“Reaper don’t go out there!” Destroyer yelled, but Reaper ignored him racing out into the clearing, headless of trip mines and the bullets that chopped the grass up in his wake. He was yelling down the headset to Duke, asking him to get to Jumper, receiving a negative and a frantic cry that the gun was only working every third round.
A bullet whizzed past his nose, and he twisted, trying his guns grenade launcher. It worked and a scream met his ears from where he launched it. But he was still running, reaching the other side of the clearing.
He broke into the forest, yelling Jumper’s name, swearing and stumbling as he broke into another small clearing and finds Jumper leaning up against a tree.
The upper half of his head had been blown clear off. Just some nose left, a blood drooling mouth.
The guerrilla who had killed Jumper turned to see Reaper racing at him. That was when Reaper’s gun jammed but it didn’t matter. Fuelled by blind rage Reaper smashed the gun butt into the man’s forehead, smashing it in as he whirled throwing his gun into the face of another guerrilla charging him.
He drew his sidearm, his pistol and fired two shots blowing two heads apart, but the clearing was getting flooded by guerrillas. Suddenly Goat and Destroyer were there, firing, their guns working, but Reaper doesn’t see them.
He is reaping a killing field. Firing and screaming, firing and screaming until the green grass and leaves were awash with blood and there was no one left to slaughter.
And only then did Reaper sink to his knees and cover his face with his bloody hands.
It’s his fault. All his fault.
~*~
Bones came awake with a loud gasp and tumbled out of this bed, sheets wrapped around his legs. He thudded to the floor, and lay there, fingers curling into the short Starfleet regulation carpet. His body shook with repressed sobbing, that he fought down viciously.
He had not dreamed of Jumper in years.
Bitterly he damned Olduvai, damned himself for re-awakening Reaper who he had so firmly pushed away for more than a century. He had embraced Reaper, and that meant dealing with Reaper’s baggage; his grief over losing his best friend, his guilt over how he had died and his most recent actions in infecting Jim.
Feeling emotionally wrung out he got to his feet and made his way into the shower, letting the sonic refresher wash away the old memories of a time so long ago. But he couldn’t wash away the sight of the boy he had killed, or the sight of Jumper against his tree.
He went to work very grumpy that day.
Tending to the injured from Olduvai took his mind off his troubles for a little while. Healing was his way of atoning for the lives he had taken and ruined during his years as Reaper, and now also for Jim’s life which he had so spectacularly fucked up.
As he worked he ran through ideas in his mind. How to disappear off the ship without that blasted Vulcan or Jim knowing? It seemed practically impossible. He needed to give Jim as many years of normalcy he could until his best friend would turn into a fugitive like him.
A walking science experiment.
A perfect fucking weapon.
God how he hated himself.
~*~
Jim watched Bones from the Med-bay doorway, seeing the tension in his best friend’s shoulders. With the C-24 enhancing his body he could see the dark bruising under the dark eyes, a sign of a bad night, or several bad nights, sleeping.
He wasn’t much better.
Bones had shut him out, completely closed him off from any kind of personal contact. Professionally he was still as awesome as ever, meeting Jim’s gaze with dark eyes that were cool with distance. But the instant Jim reached out to touch him, or called him Bones, or did anything beyond the bounds of Captain and CMO, his best friend pulled away, ran away.
Spock agreed, it just wasn’t logical. Jim had already been enhanced; his chances of being in another life threatening situation were now considerably lower. Ignoring him now, was just not sensible.
Since when had sense ever governed emotions though?
So Jim walked confidently into the med-bay and saw Bones back tense even more. He could hear Bones heartbeat, warm and solid, deeper and more measured than the others around. Enhanced heartbeat he thought with fascination. And he could smell Bones too, that coffee mixed with alcohol rich chocolate scent of him that practically radiated off him.
Jim felt his heart clench.
God how he loved this man.
~*~
“Bones.” Jim greeted him, walking over and clapping his shoulder, like nothing had changed.
McCoy shrugged the hand off, moving away, ignoring the hurt expression that was on Jim’s face. This was for the best, best for his stupid, reckless, feckless...
He loved Jim, adored him even. How could he have condemned him to this immortal hell that he lived in? Haunted by regrets for the rest of his existence.
“Captain.” His voice was cold, “What brings you to the med-bay? You are not injured, or sick.”
He couldn’t get injured or sick, Bones thought with a twist of pleasure mixed with pain. What did he need a Doctor for now?
“My best friend is being a jackass.” Jim grumbled, walking around to face him, those blue eyes probing his face.
“Please go away Captain.” Was the cool reply as Bones moved away from the younger man, lifting his PADD and studying it carefully. Jim had been dismissed, brushed off, maybe now he would realize that Bones was being serious, that being friends, best friends, was a bad, dangerous idea and he ruthlessly pushed away that little voice in his head that cried that he wanted Jim to be so much more than just a best friend.
Jim had admitted his love in Olduvai, something that Bones had returned. He had meant it, had meant it with all his heart, but love was dangerous. His love had made him infect the one person he truly cared about. His love and his inability to live without James T Kirk.
Now Jim would live forever, condemned, shunned, or coveted as a weapon or genetic prize.
And it was his fault.
“Don’t you walk away from me!”
A hand gripped his shoulder and whirled him around to face a pair of furious blue eyes. It was then that he realized, really realized, what he had done. A week or two ago, before Olduvai, he would have been able to shrug off Jim’s hand, would have been able to dominate him physically within a few heartbeats.
But now Jim had the same synthetic chromosome elevating his body’s skills. It would take a real contest now to see who came out of it the victor. And he could see in Jim’s eyes that core of steely determination that showed up whenever it really mattered.
Jim would not allow him to stage an elaborate death and disappear into the depths of space. Whereas before, Spock would have been his only physical competition, now the odds were against him with two strong males seemingly determined to keep him on board.
“You are being, completely illogical Bones!” Jim hissed at him, and Bones could see the rest of the medical personnel, quietly slip away, leaving them both alone in the suddenly silent med-bay, apart from the unconscious injured crew who had made it out of Olduvai. “Yes illogical!” Jim stormed, as Bones opened his mouth, “And I know I sound like Spock, and I know it’s not what you want to hear, but I need you Bones. I need you. And this is killing me more than that monster on Olduvai.”
Bones flinched and Jim stepped away.
“John Grimm, Leonard McCoy, Bones, Reaper…It’s all part of you. You are still my best friend. And when you realize that, you know where to find me.”
And Jim walked out of the room leaving Bones standing alone in the centre of his med-bay dark eyes staring at the door that had closed behind him.
~*~
Bones cursed himself for not knowing what was happening sooner.
Returning to Earth he had known that he and the rest of the Senior Staff on the mission to Olduvai would be examined as to what had happened in the abandoned facility, and then as to why the centre had been so spectacularly destroyed. He had known that, and yet he had not known that Starfleet had another use for him and for Jim.
“Please read this Doctor.” The Admiral in charge of the enquiry said, handing down a document to the curious Bones standing below. It was a Final Report, written by Acting Captain Spock, dated the day of their return from Olduvai, when Jim had still been in the C-24 induced coma. And while Bones had been quietly brewing over his choices down in Hell.
As he read the document he felt his heart stop several times. Exposed. After over 200 years of keeping his secret safe from anyone who might use him as a tool he had been exposed. And not only him. Jim too had been revealed as an enhanced being.
He was going to tear Spock apart.
Security grabbed his arms, how had they gotten so close to him? Dammit he was losing his edge. So distracted by reading that he hadn’t even noticed possible hostiles coming up on his flanks. He really had to work on that.
Another Doctor, one he knew vaguely from his time in the Academy moved towards him and that was when he began struggling in earnest. “Doctor we need a sample from you.” The Admiral barked as Bones snarled, wrenching himself away from the Doctor with the syringe.
“No!” Bones yelled before a hypospray pressed to his neck and he felt himself falling into darkness.
His last conscious thought was of Jim, and how he understood now his friend’s hatred of forcible sedation.
~*~
Bones awoke to find himself bound to a bio-bed, restraints that would hold down a strong Vulcan proving able to hold him down. Especially in his weakened state. The sedative swam sluggishly through his veins and he let out a low groan. Instantly footsteps moved over to beside his bed and he saw Jim and Spock. Jim looked pale and Spock had a tightness around his mouth that told Bones everything that he needed to know.
“Bones…” Jim looked around, and in a moment a third figure appeared there before him. The Doctor from before. He remembered her now. Dr Julia Young, head of genetics. His stomach lurched.
“I have a few questions for you Mr Grimm.” She said coolly, stylus poised above her PADD, “And then we need to run a few more tests.”
Grimm. Fuck.
“My name is Leonard McCoy.” He growled, hearing the rasp in his voice. “I know of no Grimm.” Jim shook his head and Bones felt his heart drop even more. Aw hell, this wasn’t good.
“Name: John Leonard Grimm.” The Doctor said dryly, consulting her PADD, “Born: 2020, Earth. Parents: David Horatio Grimm and Susanne Amanda Grimm, maiden name McCoy. Sibling: Samantha Delia Grimm. We ran your DNA against the records Mr Grimm, and our sources include the old fingerprint and blood match identification of the Marine Corps.”
He could feel his heart pounding against his throat. This was the nightmare that he and his sister had so bitterly fought to keep from reaching the hands of the authorities. C-24 was too big a prize to let slip away, they would want to harness it, tame it.
“Bones.” Jim moved up towards his best friend and Bones eyes snapped to his. “Bones…”
“Why aren’t you strapped down Jim?” the Doctor found his voice once more, hating the small quiver in it. “What the fuck is going on here!”
“Mr Grimm I need you to calm down.” Dr Young barked in that tone of voice that all Doctors learnt to calm down unruly patients, “Nothing bad is going to happen, you have my word on that.”
“Your word.” Reaper snarled, feeling trapped and getting that tight panicking knot under his breastbone. Reaper hated being trapped, if he had a fear it was that, “Your word, how am I supposed to trust that!”
“Bones, they just want to take a look...” Jim tried to reassure him and Reaper thrashed in his bindings.
“Dammit Jim! I am a Doctor not some goddamn science experiment!”
Dr Young moved forward, a hypospray in her hand and Reaper stilled, watching her with dark eyes. “We are not going to hurt you Mr Grimm, Dr McCoy.” The woman murmured. It was the soothing voice that men used with wild creatures that might startle at any moment. Reaper shivered against his bindings but did not thrash again, “We have no desire to replicate, duplicate or study the C-24 you carry. Captain Kirk and Commander Spock gave detailed testimonials about the dangers of it. And Starfleet agrees that the risk is much too great.”
Bones stared at her, and then at Jim and then at Spock. All three nodded, Jim with a sad expression in his eyes. He out of all of them knew what it meant to run, to hide, and to fear for your life.
“What do you want.” He asked, his voice hoarse.
Part 6