Work Text:
McCoy has long lost count of how many times he and Jim had been separated (both by choice, and by force). Somewhere, along the way, it had become expected for them to have to fight to get back to each other. They always succeeded. It had become a fact of life: Jim Kirk will always nearly die on away missions; McCoy will always be asked to do the impossible; Scotty will always claim that something is beyond the realm of physics, and still manage it; and Jim and Bones are always end up without the other.
So, it had come to some surprise to McCoy that when the landing party had been attacked, and taken, by the (very) inhospitable locals, they’d been left in a cell together. McCoy had relaxed into the cell, secure in the knowledge that Spock (and the force of Enterprise) and Jim wouldn’t rest until they were out.
Then the unthinkable had happened.
Out of nowhere, in the middle of a game of ‘eye-spy’, they’d burst in. Old fashioned weapons were shoved into their backs. Wrenched from each other by uncaring hands.
“No!” Jim screamed in horror as Bones was lifted to his feet despite his squawking. Jim punched the man to the left, kicked the other man trying to restrain him. “No, Bones!” But Bones couldn’t speak, he had an arm crushing his larynx, a gun in his back. There was a wild look in Jim’s eye, and McCoy pleaded with his eyes, he couldn’t let Jim die for him, not here, not like this, and not again.
“We shoot,” the man at his neck growled. Jim sank to his knees in desperation, his hands on his head.
“Don’t,” he sobbed. They didn’t listen, they didn’t care.
McCoy’s eyes met Jim’s, and he knew that Jim was memorising his face just as he was. He was dragged backwards, keeping their eyes locked for as long as possible. He tried to reassure him. ‘I’ll be okay’. He tried to show, ‘I love you.’ But Jim’s face was horror struck, pained, as though he believed it was their last time together. As the door shut McCoy tried to pretend he didn’t hear the pain-filled scream that echoed around the concrete cells. A scream that was ripped from him just as they were ripped apart. He wanted nothing more that to scream back, but he couldn’t, he couldn’t. Tears dribbled down his own face as Jim’s horror-filled one seared itself into his conscience. He knew that however long or short his life may last, he would be forever haunted.