Autumnal Equinox, sort of

Jim slowly allowed his eyes to open, instantly regretting the decision. The lights overhead were too bright and too familiar. Even when he squeezed his eyes closed, he could still see the halos of those stupid ceiling lights. Sick bay. Yeah, that would explain the headache and vaguely detached feeling he had every time he woke up there.

“No use pretendin’ you’re asleep,” a familiar voice told him. It was quieter than usual but no less grumpy for the reduction in volume.

“Turn down the lights,” Jim requested in a gravely voice that sounded unused. Gravely and dry. If his head didn’t hurt quite so much, he’d be more worried about being so unbearably thirsty.

“Lights 25%,” Bones’ voice ordered. When Jim sensed the light diminishing around his eyelids, he peeked out and up at Bones.

“What happened?” he asked, not sure he wanted to know. Now that he was no longer pretending to be asleep, he was aware of all the pains present in his body, his right clavicle competing with his head for first place in the race to make him throw up.

“What’s the last thing you remember?” Bones asked in response, a warm hand covering Jim’s left, his hazel eyes studying Jim in an all too familiar combination of concern and exasperation.

“Uhm…” Jim said. It hurt his head even more to try to think through the cobwebs. “We were… uhm… in the rec room.” Jim stopped, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

“Okay, kid. Not to worry. Do you know where you are?”

“Yeah. Sick bay. You’re CMO. My BFF. I’m Captain. Right? I’m still Captain?”

“Of course,” Bones grumbled. “That green bloodied hobgoblin has been acting in your stead when he wasn’t here pretending not to pace.”

“Where’s he now?” Jim asked, the pain preventing him from accessing the bond to find Spock himself.

“I made him go get something to eat. He’s been either here or on the Bridge the entire time.”

“How long?” Jim whispered, licking his parched and cracked lips again. A futile effort since his tongue was nearly as dry.

“You’ve been out 4 days. The first two I kept you sedated. The last two you kept waking up but had no idea where you were.”

“Really?” Jim asked, frowning. He didn’t remember any of that. That’s weird. And probably just as well. “So what happened to me? What’d I do this time?” he asked in resigned acceptance of yet another lecture that he was quite possibly the dumbest hick farm-boy Dr. Leonard McCoy had ever had the misfortune of knowing, God help him.

“Not your fault this time, as hard as it is for me to even believe,” Bones said. “We were at the Talk Like a Pirate Day Party when we ran out of rum.”

“Why’s the rum always gone?” Jim joked weakly.

“Exactly. You volunteered to go milk Scotty’s sacred moonshine cow to supplement the beverages. And one of the do-hickeys in Engineering blew up, sending you 20 meters in the air.”

“Oh,” Jim said, glad he didn’t remember any of that. Sounded painful. More painful than waking up to discover he didn’t remember being injured. “So this is your fault.”

Bones shook his head. “Wise-ass. Spock felt the explosion as soon as it hit you. Good thing too. Otherwise you’d be… well. We got to you right away. Another couple of days, I’ll release you to your quarters.”

“Or today,” Jim countered knowing that if he didn’t, Bones would be even more worried about him. Which would never do. He sighed softly when he sensed Spock’s approach, glad when his Vulcan entered his blurred field of vision. “Hey.”

“Jim,” Spock said, looking down at him. “It is good that you have woken.”

“Uhm… I’d prefer to still be asleep,” Jim admitted, closing his eyes.

“Understandably,” Spock agreed, talking quietly with the Doctor who left with a promise to return very shortly with something for Jim to drink.

“Why’re you mad at me?” Jim asked in a quiet voice. Their bond was still too quiet, Spock blocking him from connecting with him in the way that anchored him, held him, provided him shelter.

“I am not, t’hy’la. The past four days have been… challenging,” Spock confessed reluctantly.

“Oh God. I projected the pain onto you,” Jim said in realization. “I’m sorry.”

“It was beyond your control. You have done nothing for which you need apologize. It is one of the purposes of a life-bond, to provide awareness of your mate’s distress.” Spock picked up Jim’s left hand, holding it between his two warmer hands, the affection reaching through the pain to Jim’s heart. “Now that you have regained consciousness, it will be far less difficult for us both.”

“’Kay,” Jim said, squinting to look up at Spock. “Ship’s status?”

“All conditions report normal, sir. Lt. Scott repaired the oxygen filtration mechanism which was the cause of your injuries.”

“Why’d it blow up?” Jim asked.

“A build up of static charge which should have been released through routine maintenance. Because it was in a relatively isolated section, it had not been serviced for too long a time.”

“Oh,” Jim said, trying to consider it through the haze of pain. “Anybody else hurt?”

“Only you,” Spock assured him. “You suffered a broken collarbone, a cracked pelvis, and several internal injuries.”

“A cracked pelvis?” Jim asked, shifting slightly on the biobed. Yep, that’d account for the pain between his hips. “Crap.”

“We will simply be cautious for the next few weeks,” Spock promised him, moving aside when Bones returned with a glass of water.

“Little sips,” he instructed unnecessarily when he had the straw in Jim’s mouth. Jim knew all about the necessity of limiting his intake at first, not wanting to have it make an unwelcome return appearance.

“We still on our way to New Vulcan?” Jim asked with a small frown.

“We have been in orbit for three days,” Spock corrected. “Ambassador Pike instructed us to remain for the next week.”

“Okay,” Jim had to agree. “You see Sarek and the Ambassador?”

“I have. They have both visited you although you were unaware of their presence,” Spock said.

“’kay,” Jim agreed before yawning. “Sorry.” His eyes were determined to drift closed and he did not have the power to stop them, the dark overtaking him too easily. As he was giving up, he felt the sensation of a hypospray being applied to his neck by Bones. Sneaky bastard.

“Sleep, t’hy’la. We will be here when you wake,” Spock promised, kissing his forehead as he felt Jim give release to the sleep he tried to fight but needed in order to fully recover.