Chapter Text
I’m here to tell you a story. The story of how I came to be where I am right now. It’s not a happy story, well, not at the beginning anyways. However, what is a life’s story without a touch of angst, happiness without sadness, laughter without tears?
It’s nothing, empty without meaning and I would hate for my life’s story to be a forgettable tale. My early years are textbook. No, that’s a lie. My father died a hero. My mother loved me, but couldn’t stand looking at me. My brother ran away when he was a teenager and Frank – well, the less said about him the better.
I had some happy memories. Sadly, the bad outweighed the good. You would think it would be the weight of having a hero as a father that would be the worst, but the worst was watching four thousand people were slaughtered for nothing more than a man’s ego. Yeah, Tarsus wasn’t fun.
This, of course, causes me some problems. To forget the images that are always in my mind I take to drinking. This was not the wisest of choices, I know, but it was an easy solution to a complicated problem. Fight, fuck, drink, or run. That was my way of saying 'fuck you' to the world. It had done nothing for me, so why should I do anything for it.
Then I had to go and run into Pike. Of course, he just HAD to dare me to do better than my father did. I suck at turning down dares. This meant that I met Leonard ‘I only have my bones’ McCoy. Who was just as bitter as he was and once he cleaned up he was sexy as hell.
McCoy – that is where my story gets interesting. Occasionally, I see him, unconsciously, glance into my eyes as he passes me. His eyes seem closed off, unreadable. It drives me mad. I like simplicity and transparency... He is neither. Why does he tempt me so with his closed-off eyes and even more closed heart?
I already know his name is McCoy, Leonard McCoy. Ha, James Bond much? He is a doctor, divorced, and he hates flying. However, what lies beneath all of that? Every single attempt I make to scratch at his wall - to get closer to that core which is him; is met with irritated words and a cold exterior.
It is maddening - he is maddening. I want to penetrate that guarded inner circle of trust; he defends so closely and yet keeps so empty. So, I poke at the wall, worming my way closer to his core, always smiling and never letting him know just how much power he truly has over me. FINALLY, my efforts begin to pay off, and I am declared his friend. Being his friend means, I can tell him of my antics, and he gets to hit me over the head when he feels I am being stupid. This must occur often according to how frequently he slaps the back of my head is any measure. It is still not enough for me; I know it should be… but for reasons I cannot fathom, I am at my most greedy when it comes to me. I am not in that inner circle yet, and it is driving me mad with want and need.
I do eventually find out that his ex-wife’s name is Carol Marcus. She had a stellar career of her own and did not want to taint her work with the name of an unknown. Meaning she never took Bones’ last name. Luckily, he never had any children with the ice bitch. Though she still took him for everything, he owned.
Still my attempts to gain more of his attention and trust are getting more desperate. I take risks that go beyond even my comfort level - yet he does nothing but grumbles and patches me up after my latest round of fight or fuck is over. I realize with a start; that with each touch of his hands, I have steadily fallen for him.
Oh shit, how in the hell did that happen? I am supposed to be a playboy! A man who every woman wants to be with and every man would want to be or at least the ass they want to tap; I am not supposed to feel my heart skip a beat when I think of southern drawl and a cranky doctor. Shit, James T. Kirk; the untouchable playboy and all around a man’s man has fallen in love with a grouchy country doctor, who has shown no interest in returning these foreign feelings that have sprung up from within my heart and my damned brain. I force myself away from him and in moments of confused insanity I become even more reckless; though I am not going to him now, nor do I seek medical attention in any form from another. I want to hurt. Moreover, I want to hurt him for turning me into whatever this is that I have become to have these feelings.
I claim to be too occupied to go hang out at our weekly bar hopping sessions. I am also busy to take his calls. He actually bought this for all of two-week thanks to midterm exams and my insane schedule. Of course, that would not hold out for as long as I felt I need or want.
Lady luck proved that she loved me when my last class ended well before Bones was scheduled to be finished. I would be on my Spring Break long before he finished with his final biology exam. I quickly pack a bag and made my way to Hawaii. I am sure this will be the last-place Bones would never think to look for me and I conveniently forgot to pack my communicator; thus making me even harder to find. Yeah, if Bones ever talked to me again, it would be to yell at me; but I cannot risk his heart or mine. I hate that I will surely lose his friendship; however, I can watch over him from afar and make sure that my taint will never harm him.
I bury my sorrows in ‘fun’. I take the time to learn to surf and give my hand to parasailing. During the day, I manage to forget exactly what I am running from. At night when the people sleep, and the surf has calmed. I remember Bones smile...his looks of aggravation the trials I went through to earn his friendship and how quickly I tossed it and him away. Perhaps tomorrow when I visit the volcanoes the Goddess, Pele will claim my body and my wicked heart as a living sacrifice.
In fact, when I dive deep into the ocean to see the live rolling lava and I plan to go right up to it and tempt fate. Of course, the damned guide divers make sure everyone stays a safe distance from the lava, rotten bastards. With all of my running around and risk taking adventure, no harm comes to me in Hawaii. Spring break is over, and I will now have to face Bones and find a way to break all contact with him. I will deal with my heartbreak silently and bravado… like I always do.
I step off the transport and see Bones looking as if he was prepared to explode. I take a deep breath and square my shoulders willing to take any verbal and/or physical beating; he is ready to dish out. I deserve no less. I hear a loud bang behind me and see Bones running toward me before I feel the heat and pressure of the exploding transport. I remember having to stop myself from grinning when I physically fly over his head and land hard on the concrete. I did not want to grin because I found it funny. I wanted to laugh because in that instant... I saw a look of true concern in Bones’ eyes and I could almost believe that he might just like me in the same manner as I like him.
I hear Bones calling my name, and I think he may be holding my hand. I am not really sure though. I clearly remember coughing and pain lancing through my chest and then just as suddenly as it appeared the pain stopped.
It dawns on me that I am getting my wish… I am dying. I give a chuckle and motion for Bones to lean down subsequently I say the words I swore he would never hear from me, “I love you Bones.” I figure if I was dying anyhow, then there would be no harm in him knowing how I feel. What happens next can only be described as… weird. I feel no pain, but I could clearly see the chaos all around me. The bodies of some of my fellow passengers are scattered about. I can see people screaming and running…, but I cannot hear them.
Some people are obviously doing a body count because some people. The bodies are already covered in white sheets. As I watch the blood seep through some of the covers, I can only hope that they passed quickly and painlessly. My heart breaks when I see a child no older than four… maybe five shaking the body of the person I assume is her mother trying to get her to wake up. I go to pull her away, knowing her mother is beyond all help… but I keep being pulled and knocked away from her. I scream at people to look and to help the poor girl, but no one is paying attention to me. I go back to Bones and try to get him to do something, and I notice he is working frantically on a battered and obviously dead body. I want him to give up and help this little girl, and then I notice the bloodied face was my own.
I really was dead… and Bones was not giving up on me. I am not sure if I should laugh or cry when Bones punches the person, who is trying to pull him away from me. He should be happy to see me go, right? I ran away without a word of warning. So, why is he working so hard to save me? In addition, why is he crying as he is breathing for me?
I watch in morbid fascination as he compresses my chest over and over before breathing for me again. I see his lips moving... I wish I had taken up lip reading, so I could know what he was saying. One thing I am sure of is that he is getting very angry with me. I wince when he punches me across my face not because I can feel it, but because I know, it should hurt.
I shake my head and look for the little girl; I saw earlier. I am thankful that someone finally spotted her and taken her away. Her mother's body still lies there now covered in a white sheet with one hand sticking out desperately grasping the edge of a small coat. I hope that she will know her actions saved her daughter and optimistically the daughter will have a loving father to embrace her and love her through this tragedy.
I feel a quick sharp pain in my abdomen just above my navel area and look down. I quickly look at my body and feel my heart break. I can see myself in Bones embrace. My eyes stare unseeing at the sky and my mouth slightly open. There is a bare trickle of blood slowly flowing from my ears and nose.
There can be no mistake that Bones has finally accepted my death and is at the beginning stages of grief. The man has been through so damned much... and now I am selfishly putting him through more. I feel the tug again and this time it is accompanied by the feel of something wet and warm on my face. I look closer at my lifeless body and see one of my fingers twitch.
Death throes? No, that does not seem quite right. I watch as a woman tries to gently pry my dead body from Bone's desperate grip. They already have the white sheet of death covering my legs and half of my torso. ‘They should use a different color of material,’ I think to myself as the blood from one of my legs starts to slowly stain the sheet.
I again look at the woman and see her standing over her own body looking at me. She has a sad smile on her face as if to reassure me that everything would be ok, and that she knew much more than I did at this point. She nodded her head to my dead body and made a shooing motion with her hand. She looked longingly at the little jacket then looked at me and put her hands together as if in prayer. It finally dawned on me that she was asking me to make sure that her daughter was going to be all right.
However, how could I? I was dead. My lips were blue, and I am sure rigor mortis was starting to set in. I looked back to my body and saw Bones with teary-eyes finally release my body and grab the sheet that was to be my death shroud and start to pull it up all the while looking deeply into my dead eyes.
~TBC… (Fic is finished, just not all posted, I have to edit each chapter before posting.)