Actions

Work Header

The Drive Was Pretty

Summary:

Leonard never expected to ruin this between him and Jim the way he did. He never expected to be pushed to this point.
He also never expected Jim to wrap a car around a tree and forget the last four years.
It's just one mistake after another for Leonard McCoy.

Notes:

Hey guys! I've been working on this idea for a while and I hope it turns out well!

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Leo’s heartbeat matches Jim’s.

Well, really, it matches the beep of the machine that monitors Jim’s heartbeat. It’s not really different, but at the same time, it really is. Jim’s chest rises and falls slightly and it’s the only sign they’ve had of his life for two months. Two months of holding slightly warm hands and staring at eyelids that are sealed shut.

Most everybody’s given up at this point, but Leo can’t afford to. He can’t move on because Jim was his moving on. He’s already moved to Jim. He can’t move from him.

Not yet. “Jim, please.” He begs quietly in the room that’s too white, too clean, too stark. The balloons and flowers have stopped coming almost completely. Only a vase of tulips that gets replaced every few days remains. Yellow tulips from Winona who doesn’t know what else to do for her son so close to death.

They’ve been holding him away from it for two months. Teetering on the edge of life and death and he doesn’t seem to be fighting either way. “Jim, I need you to come back to me. Please.”

It’s the same story every day of Leo’s life. He sits by the bed whenever he can, makes excuses to stop by the room whenever he can while he’s working. When he’s off for the day, he sits with a book, holding Jim’s limp hand in his own work-worn one. He doesn’t know what else to do at this point. So he begs, he begs when no one else is around and there’s machines and a comatose husband to listen. His ring shines on his own finger. Jim’s sits in a box on the table by the bed. They took it off when his hand was broken and it would have been dangerous. No one’s thought to put it back on him. “God, Jim.”

“You need to stop this. He’s gone.” Christine walks into the room with a cup of coffee for both of them. She sits pristinely in the chair next to his and shakes her head. “You know what they said, Leonard.”

Leo runs a hand through his hair and sighs. “He might never wake up and if he does, he’ll definitely have amnesia.” He quotes. Everyone quotes it constantly and he doesn’t know what good it’ll do, really. Jim is not going to give up on him. He promised he’d never give up. “I don’t care. I can feel it. He’s right there. Right there. Just under the surface and I can get him.” He squeezes Jim’s hand. “I have to get him back.”

Christine shakes her head and puts her hand on his shoulder. “And what if he never comes back? Will you let go? Can you?”

“He’ll come back.”

“That’s not what I’m asking.”

“It doesn’t matter what you’re asking, Chris. He. Will. Come. Back.” Leonard reprimands her and she shrinks back slightly but is still obviously not willing to back down. “He will.”

They sit in silence after that and the tension is palpable between the two of them. Leo feels bad, he does. Christine is his best friend. His only friend that doesn’t have anything to do with Jim, really. She’s all he’s got anymore, really, and he’s obviously hurt her now. “I’m sorry, Leonard. I know you love him.”

“More than anything.”

“You will have to let go, eventually.” She sees him get tense and defensive again and she puts her hands up. “I mean, maybe. The chances aren’t looking so good but there’s always the chance that he’ll come back. What I’m saying is that if he doesn’t, you need to have a plan for coping. I won’t see you turn back to the bottle again.” She leans over and pats Jim’s shoulder. “Pretty sure it’s your fault he hasn’t yet.”

Leo smiles softly at Jim. She’s right, of course. When he and Jim finally got together, Leo was completely distraught over his father’s death and Jim made him promise not to destroy himself like that again. Now, when it’s Jim that he’s losing, he can’t bring himself to even look at the bourbon that sits on the shelf in their apartment that is too empty to live in. “Yeah. You know I could never let you down, Jim.”

Christine leaves the room after about five minutes. She’s got to meet Roger for dinner with his parents. She leaves him with only a pat on the shoulder and a slightly pitying glance that he’d loathe coming from absolutely anyone else. He doesn’t particularly appreciate it from her, but he knows not to fight it.

He’s alone in the room. Not alone, really. Jim is there but he’s not there. He can’t talk, can’t smile that ridiculous smile or wink at Leo with those dumb blue eyes. He can’t hold his hand.

His hand. Leo starts in his chair and he wonders if he’s imagining it. He wonders if the tightening fingers are just another figment of his imagination. He pulls his hand away and Jim’s clenches into a fist.

That’s definitely not his imagination. “Jim?” He gasps. The hand clenches a little and he can practically see Jim fighting to surface. “Nurse!” He bolts out of his seat and sticks his head into the hallway. “Come on, dammit! He’s waking up!”

Everyone in the hallway stops. They all know about Jim, of course. They all know about Leonard McCoy, the neurologist with a husband in a coma. A nurse drops a tray and immediately starts scrambling to pick it up. Another nurse rushes past him and into the room to start checking vitals immediately. “Jim, come on, open those eyes for me.” He stands away from the bed, knowing he’ll be thrown out if he gets in the way.

Suddenly, Jim is gasping and his eyes fly open. He tries to speak, but it’s raspy and not discernible. Leo pours him a glass of water from the pitcher that’s always on the table and holds it to his lips. “It’s alright, Jimmy. I’ve got you.” Jim drinks it greedily and his eyes are full of confusion as he finally breaks out of the dizziness that comes with waking up from a coma and takes in the scene around him.

“Bones? Where am I?”

“The hospital, Jim.”

Jim looks at him like he’s crazy. “Why?”

“You were in an accident.” Leo finds himself checking Jim’s pulse in his wrist and he doesn’t remember how his hand got there but there it is. Jim’s heart hammering out at a rate that is probably too high to be healthy, but is obviously quite understandable. “You’ve been out for two months, Jim.”

Jim nods and Leo wants to say more, but he’s being pushed away by a brunet male nurse. “We have to ask you a few questions, mister Kirk, for our evaluation.”

“Alright, sure.” Jim tries to sit up, but he wavers slightly and the nurse pushes him back down.

“Don’t sit up. You’re not ready for that quite yet.”

“Yet he’s ready to answer questions about his life?”

“You know why we have to do this, McCoy. We’ll ask him now and then we’ll ask again in two hours.” The nurse brushes him off before turning back to Jim. “What is your full name?”

“James Tiberius Kirk.”

“Hometown?”

“Riverside, Iowa.”

“Age?”

“Twenty-four.” Jim answers confidently. Everyone in the room draws in a sharp intake of breath. “What?” He says.

Leo feels his heart deflate in his chest. He should’ve expected it, really, but it doesn’t mean he was any sort of ready for it. He takes a deep breath and speaks directly to Jim. “You’re twenty-eight, Jim.”

“No.” Jim glances around wildly. “No, I’m not. I am twenty-four. I was born in 1985 which makes me twenty four. You’re my best friend, Bones. You know that.”

“It’s 2013, Jim.” Leo says dejectedly. He sits back down in his chair and listens dimly as they continue to question Jim. If Jim doesn’t remember the last four years...

The nurses and Doctors leave after what feels like an eternity and then it’s just Jim and Leo again. He doesn’t quite know what to say. It’s been two months and apparently Jim remembers nothing. “Bones?” Jim reaches out and brushes Leo’s arm with his fingertips.

“Yes, Jim?” Leo can’t help but sound uncertain. He’s got no idea what Jim remembers at all.

Suddenly, whatever Jim was about to say leaves his mind and Leo watches at the blond’s eyes land on his left hand. Leo wants to tuck it away behind his back. He wants to hide it away. It’s too late, though.

Jim purses his lips together and doesn’t speak. Neither of them move for what seems like forever. “You got married?” Jim asks finally. His voice is slightly tight. “What’s she like?”

Leo grips the armrests on the chair to keep himself from leaving or screaming. Of course Jim’s forgotten their entire relationship. They only got together at the end of 2009. “He. Not she.”

“Oh. What’s he like?”

“He’s dead.” Leo lies. “He died a few months ago.”