Chapter: Thirteen; In Which Everything Hurts

There was no pain. Leonard only had a second to wonder if his executioner had missed before a body hit the ground in front of him and the clearing exploded with the noise of gunfire.

He'd seen dead bodies before - so many had died - but when he opened his eyes and saw his would-be executioner in front of him, Leonard couldn't look away. It was such a cliche that he'd been shot between the eyes and deformation of the exit wound had completely destroyed the ridges that should've been there. Leonard should've been able to see glassy eyes - something literally changes about their eyes and you can see it happen, you know? - but there was too much tissue damage, too much blood to see them.

I wonder what color his eyes were.

The blood flow was already starting to slow, sluggishly trickling out of the damaged flesh and pooling on the frozen ground that had already soaked up as much as it could.

All that destruction from one bullet. The bullets whizzing around him would only cause more: more blood, more death.

Leonard was just so tired of both.

He just wanted to lie down and sleep but he couldn't move. He felt too heavy. And there was blood everywhere and he didn't want more blood on him, he'd had too much of that already...

"Bones! Bones!" The echo of the last gunshot had barely faded when the sound of his name overrode it. Boots ran through that blood like it was nothing important, treads squishing through the dark mud like it was just a rainy day.

Knees joined Leonard's in that mire and hands were pulling at him again and Leonard looked up and Jim was right in front of him, looking him over and those were the hands pulling at him, except they weren't pulling at him, but running all over him in such a familiar pattern, making sure that none of the blood belonged to Leonard.

How many times had Leonard done the same thing to Jim?

The concern on Jim's face turned into a grin and he pulled Leonard into the most painful hug Leonard had ever experienced. Everything hurt and Leonard couldn't really bring himself to hug back - Jim didn't know what had happened - but Jim didn't seem to mind. The grin switched back to concern after Jim pulled away, looking Leonard in the eye - such nice blue eyes - and asked something Leonard couldn't answer: "Where's Chekov?"

Jim didn't know what had happened. Jim didn't know yet.

Leonard couldn't tell him.

Spock's voice rang out from the shack. "Captain! We have Lieutenant Chekov!"

The grin was back - he didn't understand - and so was the painful hug.

"You hear that, Bones? I've got you." Jim pulled back to look him in the eyes again, to smile at Leonard again when there was no real reason for a smile that Leonard could see. "We've got you. You're gonna be okay."

All Leonard could do was shake his head.

/\\\

Leonard wouldn't later remember the trip to the shuttle or the ride back to Enterprise or getting looked over and settled into Medical, but that's where he woke up: covered by a blanket on a biobed, his vital signs displayed on a screen above him. He didn't even need to open his eyes right away to recognize where he was, with all its familiar smells and sounds. The blankets were as well known to him as the ones in his quarters, as was the feel of the bed beneath him and the beeps, blips, and voices surrounding him.

His eyes opened and found Jim sitting next to him, a lunch tray sitting half-eaten in his lap as a PADD ate up all his attention. He looked tired; there were circles under his eyes and he seemed so sag under an unseen weight. He probably hadn't been sleeping or eating properly. Jim had always performed well under stress, but he wasn't immune to crashing after the disaster was over.

Though, Leonard wasn't sure this disaster was actually over.

Leonard tried to force down a cough - just the thought of hearing a cough made his throat tighten and something in his chest clench - but Jim heard it anyway and the PADD was abandoned for a cup and straw on a table by Leonard's bed.

The water felt good on his throat and then the cup was back on the table but Jim was still right there, staring at him. They stared at each other for a good long while before a slow but genuine smile crept onto Jim's face. Jim gripped his hand and squeezed gently.

"Welcome back, Bones." Leonard didn't know if Jim expected a response to that, but Jim continued after only a short pause and a slight fall to his smile. "I should go get the doctor, let them check you over." He nodded to himself and let go of Leonard's hand.

He paused just before opening the curtain partition and turned back. "I'll have to ask you some questions about what happened," Leonard's hands clenched against his blankets and he looked away, "but it can wait until you're feeling better."

Leonard sat numbly through the physical exam and an explanation of his outlook. That was the worst part of the whole thing, really. He didn't want to think about anything, let alone what to expect. They thought he wanted to know what the future held for him? He couldn't bring himself to care.

He'd been on that planet for almost three Earth-equivalent weeks. It had felt like longer. And shorter. Time was strange and Leonard's memory had gaps.

He could expect a full recovery with the proper care. Big fucking deal.

It was a bit of a shock to hear someone use the word "starvation," though. It was true; they'd been consuming far fewer calories than they'd needed for running and battling the cold, for the high heart-rate caused by adrenaline and the lack of sleep. Leonard had lost a lot of weight and he hadn't even realized it at the time. Other things had seemed far more important and were in far better focus in his memory. He hadn't noticed the heart arrythmia he'd apparently developed at some point, either.

Everything that had been happening to Pavel had been so much more important.

Not dying had far outweighed discomfort.

His colleagues left without getting much from him verbally and he was glad that they hadn't pushed. Doing much more than a nod or a shake of the head seemed like such an effort. Everything hurt in a way that he just didn't remember feeling down on that frozen hellhole. His head hurt, his muscles ached, his joints were sore. It was like his body had thawed finally and everything the cold and the adrenaline had masked was making its presence very loudly known. Though, the doctors asking pointed questions about each one of those things had made him address it in a way he hadn't earlier, either.

Jim stepped back in once Leonard had had a moment or two of alone-time. His smile wasn't quite right and Leonard didn't bother trying to smile back. He did reach up and scratch at his stubble - almost a beard, really - giving in to the itchiness and thankful the nurses had trimmed his fingernails. He really hated how quickly they grew.

Jim's smile grew a little more genuine as he sat down and made a vague gesture toward Leonard. "Yeah, they cleaned you up pretty well, but I told them not to shave you. Thought you might want to keep it a while." Leonard didn't say anything and Jim's smile faltered a bit, but he soldiered on admirably.

"You know, in case you like it. Or want to change up your style a bit or something. It's filled in pretty well; I'll get a mirror in here so you can decide. You could maybe trim it up, wax that mustache a bit, get a whole well-tailored lumberjack thing going on…" He was rambling. He felt awkward, so he was rambling and Leonard didn't blame him. Leonard wouldn't know what to say either if their positions were reversed. He'd resort to lecturing him on something health-related, so he wouldn't judge Jim rambling about facial hair of all things. Not like Leonard was really helping carry along conversation or anything.

"...I mean, now you can shave it off yourself, since you're finally awake - not that you didn't have any right to sleep that long, I'm actually surprised you didn't sleep longer. But yeah, just say the word and we can have you smooth as a baby's bottom again in no time." Jim paused, running out of steam for a minute as they just stared at each other before Jim could figure out where to take his strange topic of conversation after that. Leonard kind of hoped he'd just give up and talk about something completely different - or better yet, leave.

"It does look good, if you're wondering. Could probably use a trim, but other than that, it looks pretty good. Rugged, even. They should probably go ahead and shave Chekov, though. I mean, if I were him, I'd be pissed when I woke up and realized that my friends had let me lay around for days with that patchy stubble on my face. Poor kid. I don't know if he'll ever be able to grow a full beard. I hope that's not, like, a life goal of his or something..."

The monitors registered the spike in Leonard's heart rate immediately. There were things Leonard wanted to say for the first time since he'd woken and he just couldn't get them out. He wanted to cry and yell because Jim was talking about Pavel like he was alive and Jim wouldn't do that if he weren't and Leonard needed details even as his vision blurred at the edges, but all he could do was reach for Jim's hand and grip it hard as his heart raced.

Pavel was alive.

Nurses had already rushed in by the time Leonard leaned over and vomited all over Jim's shoes.