Title; Into Dust
Pairing; Bones/Jim (BroShip)
Characters; Bones, Jim, Scotty, unnamed crew members
Rating; G
Summary; Italics are of flashback memories from when Nero attacked the ship. Regular is events from 'Into Darkness'. Not everything is 100% on par with both movies.

"We call that person who has lost his mother, an orphan; and a widower that man who has lost his wife. But that man who has known the immense unhappiness of losing a friend, by what name do we call him?"
— Joseph Roux

The deep, twinkling black space. The fabled misconception of freedom riding on the wings of hope; skies not yet explored, waiting to write itself in the pages of a book called Life. At the end of each horizon that glinted silver amongst the reflections of unreachable dreams, lies destruction. Ships did not fly. Pearl white stars were nowhere to be seen.

In its wake was poison. Festering plumps of black death heated the air as debris drifted about. Screams and cries echoed through the area, inducing more and more destruction. The once orange and yellow tendrils of fire were now stained red with the blood of its victims, lashing out to claim more innocent souls...

The Enterprise fell. Far from the beginnings of the sky, and deep in to the clouds that clustered together. Screams echoed through the entire ship; the emergency lights flashing brightly the same colour as the blood that swam through the human veins. It tilted, and suddenly everything was becoming upside down.

Bodies were being flung about as the gigantic carrier jolted, clouds whipping at the bases as it passed. Further and further to the pits of its demise. Cries mingled with the clashing of metal and other supply objects clanging against the walls and floors. The crew members were desperate to grab on to something. Anything.

An order came in to flee to the escape pods. No one heeded that order, and the doctor knew Spock was doing everything he could in the best interest of the crew. He was thrown back against one of the nurses as the Enterprise rotated again, and all their supplies came crashing down from the ceiling to the floor.

Hypos, vials, even tricorders, smashed in to pieces with the impact, and the CMO turned hastily to check on the woman he had fallen on. She appeared disoriented, but no major injures. Perhaps a very mild concussion; nothing immediate. The other patients who had first arrived, however, seemed in worse condition.

The smothered bay helped nothing with the blurred vision of the doctor as his head twisted to the side. Dirt, debris and blood littered his disarrayed hair. A patch of hair was plastered to his sweaty, dirty face, caked with the blood on his cheek. Pain enveloped his entire body, splitting his veins, his muscles.

A moan escaped his lips as he attempted to move. It were as though knives were being stabbed in to his trembling, broken body. He cried out loudly, but it was washed away amongst the dozens of other mournful wails. His throat felt as if it were swelling up, and the man struggled to breathe, his cerulean eyes growing wide.

He crawled his way to the console as the Vulcan's voice run out, calling for the CMO. His fingers pressed weakly against the button, and he all but managed to cough out that the person of interest was now dead. There was a pause before the Vulcan informed the man he had now inherited the position.

Pain. In his chest. He simply ignored it and struggled to his feet, pulling the nurse before running to grab the first fallen patient. Everything was scattered. Disarrayed. His thoughts raced frantically as his medical instinct kicked in. No surreal damage was given to the bay. Not like it had when he first became CMO.

The main lights had gone out, but the backup lights kicked in, and dust floated about. The various other nurses and medical assistants murmured, groaned, as they collected themselves and set to helping the doctor gather the critically injured patients. It was feeling all too familiar again.

Except this time the Enterprise was dealing with a lot more than a Romulan. What little devices and tools were spared from breaking were instantly snatched and put to use. McCoy, making sure the patient in his arms was being tended to by an assisting nurse, left him and limped to the side.

Dizziness swam around his mind, and he swayed a little. All the screams were toning out as the man struggled to clear his mind. The entire bay was bleeding debris. The patients were crawling, crying… dying…

Fear. Confusion. Hopelessness.

Trails of blood lined the floor of the bay. A few bodies were piled over each other. Nothing was making sense. Everything had gone quiet, save a low humming, pounding against his brain. His entire being hurt. The wound on his lip burned madly, like the congestive smoke eating up the people.

His hands slipped over the cryotubes that had rolled and tumbled over each other. With a heavy grunt, he started to pull them off of one another and checking them over, making sure they took no damage. He didn't know how long it took him to check every single one, but by the time he was finished, his shoulder was being tapped.

An irritated scowl crossed his face when he turned to face whoever bothered him. Scotty. His features did not look pleasant. Quite broken, actually. McCoy jumped to his feet just in time to see a body being carried in to his bay. He pushed the engineer to the side and dashed over to the biobed.

Aching, bruised fingers clasped to the edge as the body of the captain was settled on to the sheets. McCoy stared hard, disbelief coursing through his system. He didn't want to believe it was real. He didn't want to admit that before him, laid his best friend. Dead as ever. A small device was handed to him, and he ran it across Jim's body, the device whirring and scanning.

It beeped. Signaling the worst of the doctors fears. Other crew members gathered around him, but he paid no heed to them. His gaze was only on Jim. His thoughts were only on Jim. Memories of their first meeting flashed through his mind. Memories of their academy days; their first mission together on the ship.

The tears, the laughter, the drinks they shared. Endless nights talking about their lives. Fears and ambitions. Jim constantly smiling and joking, prodding fun at the doctor. The shoulder bumps, the twinkling in Jim's eye when he was in a mischievous mood. Him running around in disguises on other planets they were exploring.

The childish look on his face when they swam to the Enterprise under the ocean. Bones was ready to murder him for that fateful day. When he had stolen the scroll before shooting down their ride and then making them both jump off the cliff. There were plenty of times Bones had wanted to stick Jim with a hypo and sedate him.

Those were all in good memories. Jim irritated him, yes, but he was his best friend. His brother, not by blood, but by soul. Spirit. By heart. McCoy's stomach retracted and he felt his heart drop. His usually calm and steady fingers started to shake at the realization that his brother was gone.

Tears formed and he simply continued to stare. He didn't want to believe it. The bay was silent. The Enterprise was moving. His heart was broken for the second time. Perhaps irreparable.

Jim was dead.