Inell's Fanfiction Archive

Prompt: Kirk/McCoy - ”Love means never having to say you’re sorry.” (Love Story)

The bruises are vivid splashes of color on Bones’ pale skin. Jim can make out the shape of fingers along the curve of his throat. The shape of his fingers. He looks down at his hands and notices that they’re shaking, which makes him curl his fingers into his palms and rub his fists against his thighs. He looks back at Bones, who is lying too still to be asleep. Bones moves when he sleeps, kicking his legs and sprawling all over the mattress and Jim.

Hazel eyes are suddenly staring at him when Bones shifts his head. Jim stares at the black eye and busted lip for too long, uncertain what to say. As Captain, he knows that he did what he had to do to protect his crew. The Treolytes were going to kill them all, were going to torture anyone who mattered to him, and they had Bones. All he could do was play their game, pretend that he didn’t care, fight Bones himself so he wouldn’t be tortured by an alien race who had perfected torture to a point that even the bravest of Starfleet couldn’t withstand it.

As a man, he knows that he hurt the person that he loves the most. He can see the look of betrayal when he first hit Bones, can remember the look of shocked surprise and hear the concerned whisper demanding some sign to prove that he hadn’t been somehow possessed. A sign that he couldn’t give, not when all that mattered was delaying the Treolytes until Spock could find them and get them all to safety.

He looks at Bones and remembers a night when he was a kid, before his mom married Frank, when she had a loud boyfriend who drank too much and how she had looked after their final fight, before she had ended things. The bruises and cuts and look of defeat in her eyes as she sat alone and kept telling him and Sam that everything would be okay. He’s become that man, beating someone he loves and destroying them, the trust and affection and all the things that Jim still doesn’t really understand that come from being in a relationship.

“Jim,” Bones says hoarsely, raising his hand slightly before letting it drop back on the bio-bed. Jim steps forward without hesitation, reaching out to grasp Bones’ hand even as he fights the feelings of guilt and voice in his head telling him he doesn’t deserve Bones, doesn’t belong here, doesn’t have the right to touch and want and have something so special. He wants to say that he’s sorry, to explain, to ask for forgiveness, but Bones just looks at him and squeezes his hand before tugging gently.

Jim closes his eyes and lets out a breath that he hasn’t even realized he’s been holding. When he opens his eyes, Bones is still looking at him with understanding, with love, and Jim’s knees feel weak because he doesn’t know what he’s ever done to earn this, to have Bones as the other part of his soul, but he’s selfish enough that he takes it and holds it close and never plans to let go. He crawls into the bed beside Bones, kissing him softly, holding him and touching as he starts to cry and finally lets the guilt go when Bones murmurs and holds on just as tight.