Intermezzo in White and Green
Acidqueen <a.q @ gmx.de>
Pairings: Kirk&McCoy, McCoy POV
Series: pre-TOS, Acidqueen's K/Mc series
Summary: Thoughts of a physician, unvoiced.
Disclaimer: Paramount/Viacom owns Star Trek, I own my brain. No infringement is intended, and no money is being made.
Archive: The KirkMcCoyFest, my own website at http://www.syredronning.de/ , ASCEM, all others ask, please.
Acknowledgement: Thanks to T'Thrill for betaing! All remaining errors are mine!
So you're back where I didn't want to have you again - in my bed. Well, not literarily, but I saw you and Gary delivered into the emergency room of the hospital and, dammit, the sight made my heart ache. A fine mess you've both gotten into, and now you're leaving it to us to patch you together. Was it premonition, your words in the past about needing a doc like me? I better meet your expectations, because otherwise your career is done for good.
I stand next to you, not quite holding your hand, though I'd like to. My eyes hang on the tomographic holos, and I know when this action is over, I'll be better acquainted with your body than I am with my own. I'll tend to it inwardly and outwardly, puzzling together what has formerly been your cute ass, mending the ribs that aren't quite in the correct place anymore.
The full recovery will take time, and I know already that you'll be one of my worst patients, eager and pushy to get out of here. Your freshly repaired body will make every nurse's head turn, and they'll wait for the day you wake up from the regeneration tank to fulfill every wish spoken from your soft lips. And I'll hate it, but I haven't claims on you anymore.
Your burned skin is watery, and the laser scalpels don't work well on the foul softness, so I pull the charred flesh away with old-fashioned tweezers. It hurts me more than it hurts you, since you're completely out of it. If we switched off life support, your body would shut down in the wink of an eye. I try to forget the thin line we're walking and concentrate on my job.
The sounds of a dozen instruments play in my ears, constantly telling me your heart beat, respiration, blood pressure, and the neuroactivity in your brain. The sounds are low and slow, just as your life functions are. If I could make you breathe by kissing you, I'd do it. But with you like this, I can only work my fingers deeper into your body, doing handiwork where modern medicine still leaves physicians to their own devices.
Your blood's everywhere as we close your chest again, and I pull my stained coat roughly off as I leave the operating room. They bring you into the intensive care unit, and it will be a long night, maybe even days before you improve enough to put you into regeneration. The tank's already prepared; thin, light-green slime that'll make you look like a fish. Maybe I should take a shot so we can laugh about it later.
But right now I can't laugh. It's too close - you're too close, and damn you for that. I thought you were out of my life. Why did you choose to come back in the one way I wouldn't be able to say no?
Challenge 50: Write a story centered on McCoy’s thoughts when he is operating a badly wounded Kirk!