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“Soooo...I mean...compared to last time…”
He paused. It was an effort for him to draw a long, labored breath.
“...we’re...doing great, right?”
“Captain, please--save your voice.”
Kirk blew a raspberry at Spock. But, blessedly, he fell silent.
Bones was glad. Right now, the captain’s jokes were doing anything but ease his tension. They had to focus on dragging Jim down the hall, as fast as they could, to the Medbay.
Jim’s breath stuttered, and afterwards grew more ragged.
“Another damn reaction,” said Bones. He was already waving the tricorder over Jim when they reached their destination. They’d done this so many times that he and Spock had made a fluid routine of it: he stepped back, shouting, while Spock scooped Jim up, and deposited him on a biobed. Nurses flitted around to the doctor’s orders. Jim was gasping on the bed.
“Chapel, put a breathing mask on ‘im! Spock,” he barked, “I need information!”
“The captain began to have an allergic reaction shortly after we returned to the ship. Initially, it was only--”
“THE SHORT VERSION, DAMMIT! What’d he touch?”
“He ate local flora.”
Bones felt his heart lurch. “Nurse!” He whipped back and forth in the chaos, but no matter which way he turned, Jim’s gasping was the loudest sound in his ears. “Prep a hypo!”
“What was the allergen?” Chapel called, tearing through the medicine cabinet.
Spock showed her the screen on his tricorder--he’d had the foresight to scan the plant, thank God.
Bones put out his hand, Chapel slapped a syringe into it, and he turned to the biobed.
Jim was looking up at him in fear. His eyes--panicked, and blue, and plaintive above the breathing mask--didn’t look like a captain’s. They looked like a scared little boy’s.
Bones stared into those eyes, and couldn’t help feeling guilty. “...m’sorry, Jim.” And he jabbed the hypo into his neck.
And a few seconds later...Jim began to breathe.
“...how big is my file, Bones?”
“Big enough that I need two PADDs.” He hadn’t even known that was possible. Until he met Jim, and his ridiculous list of allergies. He patted a biobed. “So si’down.”
Not moving from the Medbay doors, Jim hopped from foot to foot. He gave a dramatic sigh. “Come on, Bones.”
“Sit." He was swiping through both of Jim’s medical records, not looking up. The captain had so many allergies that Bones never took any chances; he cross-checked all medications by hand now.
So reluctantly, Kirk shuffled all the way into Medbay. The doors whooshed shut behind him. “...you didn’t have to send Spock after me,” he pouted, watching all the nurses move around, and dancing out of Bones’s reach.
“If you actually showed up for your appointments, I wouldn’t have to.” With tricorder in hand, Bones turned to the empty bed, and raised The Eyebrow. “So quit hemmin’ and hawin’.”
Jim clapped his hands together. His eyes darted around--to the bed, to Bones, to the door--and he started backing up. “I feel fine, really, I don’t need any check--”
“Jim!”
He winced, and finally sat...squirming, looking down at his hands. He pulled his collar, and cleared his throat.
Bones frowned.
It had always been difficult to get the captain in for his regular check-ups. Bones specifically highlighted the date on his calendar, and dreaded it, because it spelled him a lot of yelling, and a tension headache. Tracking down and dragging in the captain took help from other officers on the ship. He was slicker than snot on a doorknob.
Jim hated check-ups, and everyone knew it...but, still, Bones had never seen him look like this. Sitting on that biobed, he looked downright uncomfortable .
Trying not to think about it, Bones went through the usual checklist. Jim stared at the floor, still squirming, and Bones would have sworn that the kid was holding his breath.
“...alright.” He glanced at Jim from under his eyebrows. “Almost done. Just a vaccination.”
Jim’s eyes darted up from the floor. “...vaccination?”
“Against Andorian shingles. It’ll be quick.” Bones pressed the hypo, and tapped it against his leg.
Jim stared at him. He slid farther up the bed. “I--already had that one.” His voice sounded strange.
“Yeah. You had it last year--time for another one.” Bones took hold of Jim’s stiff arm, and frowned as he tried to find a vein. “...relax, Jim.” He watched as the kid’s fist slowly unclenched, and his eyes settled on a point on the far wall, staring.
It alarmed Bones, much more than he would have believed.
The shot was over in a second, but Kirk’s face didn’t fill with relief, as it usually did.
“Okay,” he said, watching him. He tried to sound cheerful. “...all done, Jim.”
The captain didn’t hear. He blinked, and turned, and stared, so slowly, as if he was dragging himself through molasses. His hands clenched on the sides of the bed, knuckles white, until he suddenly lurched to his feet.
Bones stepped forward. “Jim--Jim, why don’t you sit for a little while?” He put a hand on his friend’s shoulder, and reared back in surprise when Jim flinched.
“No--no.” Jim staggered away. He caught himself on the next biobed, and looked over his shoulder at Bones. “No, thanks. I’m...thanks.” Ducking his head, he bolted out of the Medbay, nearly knocking Chapel down in the process. Bones could only stare after him.
“What’s wrong with the captain?” Nurse Chapel asked him, straightening her uniform with a twist of her mouth.
Bones shook his head. He held the empty hypo loosely by his side. “...I don’ know.”
In the Academy, Jim’s discomfort with doctors had become very clear, very quickly. It was nothing Bones hadn’t seen before. When they became friends, he always did his best to help.
On the ship, it was a good thing that Jim had Bones for a CMO. He doubted--in fact, would have been absolutely shocked--if Jim allowed any other doctor to touch him.
And after all his years knowing Jim, what he had just seen in that check-up sent up an enormous red flag.
He tossed out the hypo, and handed his PADD over to Nurse Chapel. “I’m...goin’ on a break.” Bones shouldered his way out of Medbay, and started down the hall.
“Computer, locate Captain Kirk,” he muttered, getting into the elevator.
A pleasant voice replied, “The captain does not wish to be disturbed.”
“Medical override.”
“Captain Kirk is entering his quarters.”
The doctor’s brow furrowed. Jim was supposed to go back to the bridge after his check-up. He jabbed at the elevator screen, and crossed his arms.
“Cabin level.”
Bones marched down the hall. Ensigns leaped out of his way, which meant he was probably wearing his I’m a doctor, move dammit face. He didn’t care.
But when he heard one of the ensigns whispering about the captain, with a confused look on her face...Bones started to run.
He found Jim’s door locked, which only sent his blood pressure spiking. “Jim! Lemme in.”
He waited, but there was no answer.
“...Jim.”
No sound came from beyond the door.
“Jim!”
He threw his shoulder against the door, but it was still locked. “Damn space hydraulics--medical override!”
The door, blessedly, zipped open.
Bones ducked his head and hurried in. “Jim?” He squinted into the dark cabin. “You’re s’posed to be on the bridge--”
The door hissed shut behind him.
He stepped further into the room, and looked around. “I followed you up--I was a little worried.” The bathroom door was wide open, but it was empty. The kitchenette sat unused; Jim’s dishes lay across the counter, haphazard but clean. The couch was empty, and his PADD was sitting on the armrest. “Seemed like you were acting kinda…”
Bones rounded the corner, and came up short. He sighed in relief. Jim was standing on the other side of his bed, looking out the window.
“Thanks for scarin’ the hell outta me,” Bones drawled, coming closer. “Lettin’ me wander round in the dark, like some damn horror movie…” He trailed off.
Jim’s arm was braced on the window glass, and he looked out at the cold, airless, space beyond...trembling. He was trembling.
A few steps closer, and Bones realized that Jim’s breath was nothing but a quiet wheeze. “...Jim?”
His head turned slowly. The color had drained from his face. “I…” He stared with huge crystal eyes, brimming with more terror than Bones had ever seen there. “I, I can’t...breathe.”
Bones had no idea how he sprang so fast, but he was beside Jim instantly. He tore out his communicator, and wasn’t even sure what he shouted at Chapel, but she seemed to get the message. “Look at me, Jim, she’s on her way--”
Jim shook his head. He stared across the room, not blinking, gasping. Bones knew he wasn’t seeing anything.
An allergic reaction--to what? What did he do? Bones had checked the medication in the hypo, double-checked it, how had he missed something? It was all his…
Bones shook his head. Precious seconds were slipping by, and Jim was gasping, wide-eyed. Doctors can’t panic...not until afterwards.
Bones ripped the tricorder from his belt, and scanned it over Jim’s chest and throat. He leaned Jim back against the window, eyes darting between his face and the tricorder as it processed, too slow. Too slow, dammit--when it beeped, and after he’d read the diagnosis...he had to read it again.
No anomaly detected.
No anomaly detected.
Bone stared. “Piece of--” He scanned again. It gave the same result.
Jim grabbed Bones’s arm in panic. He had the other hand on his throat. He was shaking, and sweating, and staring at Bones in terror, and still breathing.
The doctor’s thoughts came to a screeching halt.
He was still breathing--? He was still breathing. His throat hadn’t swollen…
No anomaly detected .
It dawned on Bones very suddenly. Now, he had a new diagnosis.
“Jim,” he said, taking his shoulder and squeezing gently. He had to make the panicked blue eyes meet his own. “Jim,” he said calmly, “does your chest feel tight?”
The kid could barely focus. His eyes kept fading into space--dissociation. When Bones asked him again, though, he managed a weak nod.
“You got a lump in your throat?”
Jim’s chest shuddered. He grabbed for his throat, nodding again.
Bones exhaled.
The door to the cabin whooshed open behind them. Nurse Chapel raced in. “Doctor?”
Bones looked over his shoulder. His head nurse had brought a medical bag, and two assistants--even a stretcher, sitting outside in the hallway. Jim hated those.
“It’s okay, Chapel,” he said after a moment. “Send ‘em back. Shut the door, please.”
Chapel looked at the doctor askance, but she didn’t hesitate in heeding him. When the others were gone, she shut the door, and moved slowly toward the bed.
“Bones…?” Jim gulped. He was still clinging to Bones’s arm, and shaking from head to foot. If he hadn’t been backed against the wall, he would have fallen.
Bones put down his tricorder. He looked into the wide blue eyes. “You’re gonna be okay,” he promised. “It’s not allergies, Jim.”
“Then--wh-what--?”
“You’re havin’ a panic attack.” He rubbed Jim’s arm, both to reassure him, and to steady him.
Jim stared back as if he barely comprehended.
“...come on--let’s sit down. Chapel?” She came closer. Between them, they pulled Jim up from the wall, and helped him to the bed. His skin was clammy, and he couldn’t pull in a deep breath. “Easy, easy…” Bones helped him lie back, and put a pillow under his head.
His own heart was still racing, but he was the doctor. He had to stay calm. “...I’m right here.”
He had to switch, very suddenly, from a doctor to a friend.
“Are you s-sure?” Jim looked up at him, pale and shuddering and afraid. “Something’s...it can’t be that, something else is w-wrong.”
“That’s a panic symptom. I promise, nothin’s wrong with you. And even if there was, ‘m right here.” He sat on the bed next to Jim, and squeezed his hand. “Know what that means?”
Gulping around the lump in his throat, Jim shook his head.
Bones gave him a gruff smile. “Nothin’ bad can happen while I’m here. I promise, Jim. All you gotta do is breathe--in. And out...”
When Jim let out a long, shuddering breath, it was the loudest sound in the room.
And Bones exhaled as well. “Chapel, we’re okay here. Call Spock, tell him the captain’s with me.”
“Sure thing.” She slipped out of the cabin, hardly making a sound.
“...Bones?” Jim was clenching the doctor’s hand until his turned white; his breathing still shuddered, but it was beginning to slow down.
“Yeah?”
How did this fully-grown man always manage to look so much like a kicked puppy? “...I’m scared.”
“I know.” Bones looked down. All he could do was hold Jim’s hand.
He was a doctor, dammit--he was supposed to make people feel better. He wasn’t supposed to be helpless, especially not for his best friend. “It’s gonna pass. I’m not goin’ anywhere.”
Jim slowly breathed, and nodded.
Bones kept his promise, even when the attack began to fade. Jim closed his eyes, and the steel tension ebbed out of his shoulders. The doctor could finally relax. “Better?”
“...better.” Jim opened his eyes, and rubbed his face. The fear was gone, and his shoulders were slumped. Slowly, he sat up, and tried to stand.
Bones stopped him, making a disapproving noise. “You’re stayin’ put. Want some water?” He brought back a glass, and put it in Jim’s hand. “Might help.”
Jim sighed. “I feel-- beat , Bones. And I didn’t even do anything.”
“Yeah. Panic attacks take it outta you.” Bones smiled a little. “Nothin’ to do but get rest. Doctor’s orders.”
Sipping his water, Jim shook his head. “I don’t even know what happened…”
“I do.” Bones sat. “Last time you got a shot, it was...well, it wasn’t pleasant. So, you get another one, an’ panic.”
Jim slowly nodded. He drank from his water cup, and silence filled the room. “...I’m sorry--”
Bones cut him off. “Nope. You can’t control it, so you don’t owe anybody anything.”
“But I’m--”
“You try to apologize, I’m not gonna take it.” He rubbed his neck. “If anybody owes an apology, it’s me.”
“No, you don’t…”
“See? Unwanted apologies. Annoying, huh?”
That was when, for the first time, Jim smiled tiredly. “Actually...I was gonna say that I’m needed on the bridge…”
“Uh huh--I don’t think so. You’re on my watch.” Bones was using his doctor voice again.
And if it was a little bit gentler than normal, he would have claimed that it wasn’t on purpose.
“You’re on medical leave, Cap’n, for the rest of the day. Doctor’s orders.”
Jim sat up against the pillows. “But I’m okay now,” he insisted.
Bones snorted. He raised The Eyebrow. “So you’re tellin’ me you’re ready and rarin’ to go?”
“Always, Bonesy.”
“Okay. Look me in the eye, an’ tell me you’re not tired. Go ahead.” Bones crossed his arms.
Jim tried. He really did...but Bones always knew when he was lying. Hslumped back into the bed, and that was answer enough.
“Mmhmm.” Bones turned. He looked at Jim, and nudged him gently. “You don’t snap right back from these things. You gotta recover.”
“But the bridge--”
“Will still be there when you get back,” Bones drawled. He gave Jim a look. “You’re allowed to take a time out when you need it, y’know.”
Jim leaned back into the pillows. He was frowning, worried. “...But what if it happens again?”
Bones considered it. He shrugged. “Might not happen again. Sometimes, it doesn’t.”
“But--”
“If it does ,” he continued, making a conscious effort to keep his voice gentle, “You tell somebody. Or, you come see me. Your friends can help you. I can help you.” He paused, and grimaced. “...God help me...the pointy-eared bastard can help you, too. You’re not alone. Alright?”
Jim slowly began to grin at him. “...you do like Spock.”
“I do not. I just don’t hate him as much as I used to.”
“You like him. Admit it.”
The doctor grumbled, and rolled his eyes. “‘Bout the only person I like on this flying death trap is you. So don’t push it.”
And Jim laughed. He downright cackled.
Neither of them went back to work that day. Bones made Jim change, just to eliminate any possibility of him sneaking off to the bridge.
Instead, they sat in Jim’s bed, ate replicated popcorn, and watched a movie.
"Star Wars!”
“Again?”
Bones grumbled as he settled down, putting the popcorn bowl between them. Jim just kept grinning at him, both knowing that the doctor would cave. Which he quickly did.
“A’right, fine,” he grumbled. “...but it has to be the fourth one.”
“Yes!” The cloud over Jim was gone, and his usual, imperturbable sunshine had returned. “See, you do like it, Bonesy.”
Bones was glad. “Yeah, guess so.”
He knew, watching the kid hum along to the theme song, that he would have to keep an even closer eye on him. He would be mindful of Jim’s allergies, as well as his fears. It was a lot of work keeping up with his favorite patient. But, in the end, he found it was worth it.
“A Panic Attack is a sudden and unexpected feeling of intense fear...often mimicking symptoms of a life-threatening medical condition. A Panic Attack cannot be controlled by simply...knowing that nothing is wrong.” -HighAnxieties