It's quiet in Sickbay save for the sounds of the monitors blipping away, letting Bones know that Jim was in fact alive and would survive yet another near death experience. Bones is in a chair next to Jim's bed, feet up on another chair, a bottle of bourbon on the ground just under his chair, a rocks glass in his hand. Distantly he notes the way the light is bouncing off the ring on his pinky finger.
He takes another drink.
This was becoming too familiar. He's becoming too used to the fact that he knows that however long it takes for him to declare Jim fit for active duty is just a few days, if not hours, less then the next time he'll be putting Jim back together.
How many times can you repair an egg before it's just an omelet?
He finishes the glass.
Rather then refill the glass he sets it back down, and then proceeds to stretch and check the time.
0400.
They brought Jim in at about 1900 with broken ribs, a fractured leg and passed out with a concussion. On top of that, his spleen was bleeding out. Just over 200 years ago Jim would have lost the spleen and Bones would be able to cite it as a good reason for Jim to stay on the ship when it wasn't absolutely necessary he go mingle with the local life of whatever planet they were hovering over. But today? Today Bones was able to save the spleen, set the bones and begin them on the process of recovery.
He was going to wake up, make a full recovery then jump down to the nearest planet and they'd be back here, doing it all over again.
Maybe.
Hopefully.
Bones fingers the ring, Jim shifts in his sleep.
He doesn't know how much longer he can do this. He doesn't know how much longer he can sit in Sickbay listening to the monitors as they scan for Jim's vitals, recording brain activity, heart rate and blood pressure.
More importantly, he doesn't know how many more times he'll be doing this at all.
Capt. James T. Kirk was an armed time bomb counting down in some unknown language to some unknown point in the future. As much as these nights broke his heart, he knew it was nothing to the pain he'll feel when he can't save Jim, when his captain's life slips through his fingers or when they bring him back already dead.
He's looking at the ring now. In the low light he can make out the graduating year.
"Hey."
Bones looks over, his eyes meeting with Jim's. "Morning, sunshine."
He's rewarded with a slanted smile. Jim's eye's flick over to the ring then back up to Bones' eyes, smile widening a little. Bones rolls his eyes.
"Fucking sap," Jim says before closing his eyes again and falling back to sleep.