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If James Tiberius Kirk dared to say the words “ It’ll be a simple diplomatic mission ” again, you’d shoot him. Every time he said that, things went to hell - no matter how easy the observatory mission was supposed to be. You were always left scrambling to escape, to curse Scotty and his continuously faulty transporters, to grumble under your breath as you were led into yet another dungeon.
Of course, all this was running through your mind as you sprinted through a jungle, slapping branches and rogue vines out of your face.
The civilization you were supposed to be studying was relatively peaceful, except for when someone stumbled upon their sacred temple. Yet another reason to shoot Kirk.
As soon as the Captain had gotten too close to the stone statue, the native people had started screaming, waving around crudely built spears. You were a botanist, a plant lover, you weren’t built for running and dodging and you certainly weren’t prepared for the attack, considering your phaser had been lost to the jungle a while back.
God help Jim when your fiance found out. McCoy had been deadly serious when threatening to castrate Kirk should anything happen to you.
With your thoughts on your partner’s potential wrath, you missed the root jutting up from the ground and promptly face-planted. A sickening crack resonated throughout your body, a flame so white hot it caused your vision to blacken around the edges racing up your spine just moments after.
A quick, nauseating glance down showed just how fucked you were. Ankles weren’t supposed to look like, all mangled and purple. At least you weren’t bleeding.
You panted, chest heaving with panic and pain. You had to move, put more distance between you and the natives who wanted your head on a spike, but moving wasn’t exactly in the cards due to your current predicament. You didn’t know where you were and you weren’t sure if your communicator was still hanging from your belt.
With fumbling fingers, you almost sobbed in relief when you found said communicator still attached to your person.
“L/N to Enterprise, can anyone hear me?” You asked, voice trembling. There was a crackle, then a sound.
“Ah, there ya’ are, lassie! Thought I’d lost ya’ for a bit there,” You’d never been happier to hear from the Scottsman. “We’ll beam ya’ up in a minute!” He promised and you slouched onto the ground, tears welling up in your eyes as your adrenaline started to wear off the tiniest bit, the throbbing in your leg growing stronger and stronger until you could feel each pulse of pain under your tongue.
Scotty wasn’t slow. He just wasn’t fast enough this time.
The natives were surrounding you before you could blink, spears held aloft in a position to strike you down in a heartbeat. You whimpered, holding out your hands in the hope that they would be merciful.
But you were never that lucky.
The woman who seemed to be leading the group flashed her fangs at you, reddened eyes widening and she struck. The spear lodged just under your ribcage and you shrieked, back arching off the ground from the pure, unbridled agony that swept through you.
It felt as if fire was flooding your system.
Suddenly, your snapped ankle didn’t seem that terrible.
The people gasped and stumbled away, spitting words in their foreign language when you started glowing. Next thing you knew, you and the spear still stuck in your side were laying across the Enterprise floor and Jim Kirk was staring down at you in horror, sprinting to you and screaming for a doctor.
But his words sounded muffled, as if the man were underwater. He was by your side in a second, hands shaking as he tried to figure out how to help. He was shoved aside by an absolutely enraged Dr. McCoy.
“Well, darlin’, if you wanted my attention, you coulda just asked.” He tried to joke, but the fact that he’d lost all color in his face stole any humor away from his words. A hypospray was pressed against your throat and you welcomed what you hoped would be some pain management.
“Blame Kirk.” You groaned, tongue heavy. Everything was heavy, really. Your tongue, your body, your eyelids.
God, it would be fantastic to take a little nap.
Leonard tapped at your face a little when you started to drift, his smile tense but his hands steady.
“Uh uh, honey, you can’t be sleeping right now, sweetheart. You lost too much blood to start nappin’.” His accent was thick, a clear tell of exactly how stressed he was. You nodded and did your best, whimpering when something touched at your ankle.
And then hands were on your side and the pain blazed up again.
It didn’t matter how hard you tried, it hurt so bad that your vision went dark.
()()()()
Beeping woke you, caused your nose to twitch and your toes to wiggle. Except you couldn’t really move your toes on one foot, which was very annoying. It took a second for everything to come rushing back and when it did, your eyes flew open and you gasped, instantly searching the room for the man you knew would be present.
And there he was.
Leonard McCoy sat, slumped in a random chair with his tricorder in one hand, asleep next to you. You smiled at the sight.
Apparently whatever machines you were attached to, sent some kind of reading to Leonard because he jolted away, already lifting his tricorder above you before even realoizing you were awake.
“Hi,” You croaked. “You look tired.” You couldn’t help but tease him for his dark circles and messy hair, even though guilt raced through you for being the clear cause of his exhaustion.
“Hiya sweetheart. Gave me quite the scare there.” He whispered, a hand lingering above the spot the spear was once in. You smiled innocently up at him, already fighting sleep.
“Didja yell at Jim?” You asked, yawning. Leonard chuckled, settling himself onto the edge of your bed.
“Yeah, honey. I yelled at him real good for ya.” His accent was still thick and it made you frown in concern, taking a long moment just to study his features.
You rested a hand against the side of his face, running your thumb over a dark circle.
“I’m sorry, Leo. How bad is it?” You dropped your arm, too tired to keep it in that position for very long. Leonard caught your hand and pressed your fingers to his lips. He held you like that for a moment.
With a sigh, he released you and started running his tricorder over you once more.
“You completely snapped your ankle but we fixed that up pretty good. You’ll need a couple days of rest and then light work but you’ll be good as new.” He smiled, clearly proud of his skills. You smiled at him.
“The other thing?” You asked. You felt like this was what caused Leonard’s clear worry.
His head dipped, shoulders slouching.
“It was close. The thing nicked a lung and when we finally pulled the thing outta ya, that nick developed into a full tear. Had to reinflate your lung and piece ya back together. Took longer than it shoulda and your heart stopped. We gotcha back but hell, honey, you just about took fifty years offa my lifespan.” He explained, shaking his head.
Your lips drew into a tight line as you came to the sudden conclusion that you had nearly died. Your heart had stopped, you’d nearly left this life, this universe, Leonard behind and that was just unacceptable.
“Well, I’m here. And I’m okay. I’ve got the best doctor in all the galaxies looking after me.” You tried to jest but found yourself yawning again. Leonard laughed at you, his eyes looking a bit too watery for comfort.
You would address that later, when you were in your quarters together and you weren’t nearly asleep. You would talk to him, reassure him, tell him you were still breathing and your heart was still pumping and that you wouldn’t be leaving him anytime soon.
But, for now, you just wanted to sleep.
“Go to sleep, honey. I’ll be here when you wake up.” He promised and you smiled, eyes falling closed and mind drifting off.
He didn’t have to tell you he’d be there when you woke up. You knew he would be there. He always was.