Okay

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Note: It's been awhile since I've wrote anything other than school papers, so we'll see how this does. I apologize for the errors scattered throughout this. It's a frantic work in between studying. Enjoy!

Jim curses as the bullet tears through his left shoulder. His arm screams in pain as he fights to keep his grip on the body cradled in his arms. Jim's foot catches over the rough terrain as his eyes blur with tears that he grits his teeth against. He stumbles a couple steps and shifts Chekov's weight more to his right, allowing less of the young navigators form to rest on his rapidly numbing arm.

Jim cries out as another bullet scraps past his left hip, tearing through his black pants and burning skin. Chekov's head lolls to the side, his bloodied mouth parted in an unconscious gasp of pain as he and Kirk crash to the ground.

"Enterprise!" Jim gasps into his stolen communicator.

The reptilian creatures' native to the planet quickly catches up to their fallen forms as Jim pleads for help into the communicator again. He hears a slight burst of static as the creatures circle their prisoners. Jim shoves the communicator on Chekov's belt loop. He brushes his fingers over the young man's pale cheek, trying to ignore the blacked eyes and tilt to his blooded nose.

Jim notices the first shimmer of the transporter beam at the same moment the creatures do. He bends to crouch by the kid but a blow to the face has him seated on his ass far enough away to be out of the beams range. The creature hisses something cruel that he can't understand without his translator. Jim only has eyes for Chekov. The beaten form vanishes before the monsters can figure out how to stop it.

Jim can't help the smile that stretches across his face, pulling at the freshly bruised skin over his cheekbone. He laughs roughly as he spits towards the leader lumbering above him, "Yeah, fuckers, I guess you're stuck with me." Darkness swims across Jim's senses as the creature backhands him hard enough to crack bone.

Jim awakens with a groan and muttered curse, "Fucking diplomatic missions. Cultural exchange my ass."

He doesn't even try to lift his head, chin resting against his chest. He knows where he is, how he's strung up in the center of the clans camp like some sort of trophy. He peels his eyes open, or at least he tries to the left one is swollen shut, and squints against the yellow suns harsh rays. The hot sand that his toes barely touch is covered in dark human blood. Chekov's. He sighs and shifts slightly causing pain to radiate from his straining shoulders, stretched over his head, and down his spine. He can't quite silent the grunt of pain at echoes in the still hot air.

Kirk does glance up when he hears the hisses from the leaders tent become more animated. The dull gray tents cloth entrance sweeps open as the leader exits. His intricate metal head piece is back on his head, resembling an ugly intrusive crown. He snarls at Jim, who snarls back past blood swollen lips. Jim hisses at the pain as his face twists with the snarl, pain he didn't remember receiving washes over him. Of course they would work me over while I was unconscious.

The leader hisses something loud that bounces painfully around Jim's bruised skull. Another creature rushes out of the tent and hands over as small ear pieces, one of the confiscated universal translators.

The leader shoves it roughly back into Jim's ear. It is situated crooked and uncomfortable but he understands as the creature begins to speak, "Where did the boy go?"

Jim actually laughs at that, "What? You mean to tell me you lost him? Damn, how hard is it to keep track…" I blow to his stomach leaves Jim breathless, feeling hollowed and bruised.

"The sacrifice must be made or you will bear the consequences." The translator struggled to keep up with the rapid hissing. Kirk was still a little fuzzy on the specifics on the sacrifice. He had gleamed from overheard conversations the day before that every time a new clan entered their territory the leader's youngest son must be sacrificed or the entire clan wiped out.

"He's not my son you know," Jim gasps. It's the same thing he tried to explain before their translators where taken from them.

"He is. You both have unique matching marks," he waves towards Jim's eyes. No one else in the landing party had blue eyes so they were pegged as related. Jim couldn't help but laughed at the absurdity of the claim. "We will eliminate your clan if the sacrifice is not made!" the creature rages.

Jim continues to laugh with a slight shake of his head as he lets his chin rest against his chest, exhausted. "You've got to be kidding me. You have the barest hits of warp technology on this planet and it's not even from your clan! How are you going to knock my ship out of the sky?" Jim turns blue eyes toward him in a challenge.

The creature roars in anger and unsheathes a vicious looking dagger. Jim flinches back against his bonds as the blade cuts a hot line across his chest and then another, deeper lash on the backswing. Warm sticky blood seeps from the wounds and soaks uncomfortable through his undershirt and into his gold tunic.

The leader's breath is rank and hot as it washes across Jim's sweat soaked face, "You will not leave here alive. You will die slowly bearing my marks for your clan to find." His voice is low and lethal leaving dread heavy in his gut. The leader rips out the translator with a hiss towards his companion. The man rushes into the tent and back out with a small sack of liquid.

The leader dips the dagger in it as the sound of angry hisses and phaser fire begin to build on the perimeter of the camp. The leaders yellow eyes flame with anger but he doesn't leave the task at hand. He begins to carve into the flesh of Jim's face with perfected ease. Kirk cries out in pain as the blade cuts across his scalp, down his face, over his neck, and into the muscles of his shoulder blades in a pattern he couldn't possibly keep straight.

Jim is still barely hanging on to consciousness when he hears the slight hiss of a phaser from nearby. The leader falls away dead, dragging the knife at an awkward angle deep into the muscle of Jim's back. Jim screams through a sore throat before blacking out.

Sickbay. Jim breaths a rough sigh of relief at the familiar environment. He can hear someone fumbling towards his bed and tried to peel open his sore eyes. Only the left one opens the right taped shut with gauze. " 'ones," Jim manages with a half smile that pulls uncomfortably at scabbed skin. He frowns slightly trying to remember the last time he woke up in sickbay without his cuts healed. He couldn't.

He finally realizes how shaky and sick he feels. His muscles are sore and tired, his head is pounding, and he feels hollow, downright ill. What the hell? I've had the shit beat outta me before. This isn't what it feels like after Bones takes care of me… Bones' face is tight was worry. His eyes are dark with heavy bags indicating a lack of sleep confirmed by the dark stubble littering his tight jaw. The tricorder whorls in Bones' shaky hands. Bones' hands never shack. What's going on?

" 'ekov?" Kirk finally remembers and manages to fumble out over an uncooperative tongue.

Bones' frown deepens making him look old and worn. "He's fine, kid. You got him here in time."

"Me?" Jim wonders as Bones glances away for a moment trying to hide the dampness brightening his eyes.

He sighs and sets down the tricorder with a slow deliberate move. "I…the cuts," his voice cracks and he clears it, "I was able to reduce the bruising, heal the cracked bones, and the gashes on your chest. The others…" Bones makes a hopeless motion to Jim's face, "They are covered in some heavy radioactive material."

Jim's eyes widen and his heart rate skyrockets to the point his chest hurts. " 'ou nee," his tongue and mouth refuses to form the words his brain is commanding, "Out!" he finally manages to command. No Bones. Get out. Can't be hurt. Can't lose you. His chest hurts as his heart tries to keep up with his panic. He feels dizzy and sick as his arm flails uncoordinatedly towards Bones' motionless figure.

The tear does finally fall as Bones settles on the bed beside Jim grabbing his hand twitching hand like a lifeline. "Dammit Jim, clam down!" He reaches out to as if to run his fingers through Jim's hair but thinks better of it. Scars. Right. I have scars now.

"I'm safe Jim. Just take and deep breathe. You need to lower you heart rate." Bone rubs gently over Jim's chest and he fights to calm the wave of panic. It takes a few minutes. He finally manages a shaky breath that's too shallow and settles uncomfortably in his tight chest but it's enough for Bones to continue talking. "Calm down, love. It's localized. It binds to the iron in blood localizing the radiation to…" Bones motions hopelessly grabbing on to Jim's numb hand trying to rub blood back into numb fingers.

"Me," Jim finishes weakly.

Bones nods looking away, "Spock's onto something. Promises a way to deactivate it within the hour, but," Bones sighs a turns tired wounded eyes to Jim, "The damage is done. I'm not going to be able to heal the scars, many of your muscles have significant degeneration, and there are signs of the beginning of brain damage to you motor functions." Bones heaves out a sigh and finishes, "You also have some serious heart damage that will probably require a transplant."

Jim's mind begins to race as the door opens and Spock rushes into with a small dark purple vial. "Doctor," he acknowledges with a till of his head handing the vial over. "Captain," he says as he turned to Jim with a tight frown.

Kirk waits till the hypospray hisses against his neck before speaking, " 'hat's 'oing on? 'm not dead," he tries to lighten the mood but his fumbled words fall flat and both his friends' frowns deepen.

The tricorder whorls again and Bones finally speaks up with a sigh of relief that does nothing to smooth the frown marring his features, "It's working."

" 't aren't 'ou tellin' me?"

Jim glares at his lover until the man caves with a sigh, "You've been out for over a week Jim. We've had time to evaluate your condition and have…had to set realistic parameters for your recovery. They have already been sent to Starfleet."

Jim looks even more confused as he leaves a glare on his First Officer, "C'arify, 'ommander."

Spock's posture stiffens impossibly; his dark eyes focused on a point above Kirk's head, as he answers in a carefully neutral voice, "It is in the medical staff expert opinion that you will require intensive physical therapy and possibly other medical care in response to this attack." Spock levels Jim with a pointed look with sad dark eyes, "Medical care that cannot be provided onboard a starship."

The bottom of Jim's world falls away as he fumbled to clutch onto Bones' hand with weak fingers. He turns impossibly blue eyes onto his lover, " 'm 'osing my 'ip?" He hates how young the question sounds from his traitorous mouth.

Bones heaves a sigh and presses a kiss to Jim's knuckles. "The Enterprise has another year in her mission. StarFleet is allowing Spock to command her for the duration. If you are fully recovered before her next assignment, they will return your post."

Something about the way he say everything, in a carefully controlled yet resigned voice, has Jim closing his eyes with a sigh. " 'ou don't 'ink I'll re'over to 'et 'er back." He doesn't need to see Bones nod to know.

"I'm so sorry, Jim."

" 's not 'er fault," Jim gives him a small smile as the idea of losing his command sets in. I'll be promoted, probably teaching the rest of my life. Always knew this day would come. Had hoped it wouldn't arrive so soon but I can do this. I have Bones. We can do this together.

The though hits him hard. Bones! He's positioned on the Enterprise for five years, like everyone else. Need him. Can't lose him! Bones!

" 'lease don' 'eave me!" The tears are hot in his eyes before he can stop them.

Bones actually smiles softly. He leans down and presses a soft kiss against his lover's damp forehead, "Never, love."

"But…" he begins frantically.

"Admiral Pike, as you say, 'pulled a few strings' and reassigned Dr. McCoy to Earth," Spock's eyes seem to alight even as his voice is as emotionless as ever.

Jim begins to give a slow crooked smile turning back to Bones with wide and trusting eyes. "We be 'kay?"

Bones grins wide and breathtaking, tracing Jim's torn lips with his thumb, "Yeah Jim, we'll be okay."