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(OOC: This happens during the SPF thread, but we decided to make it a new post so it didn't get lost.)
It took time to get Jim to come back into his own head. Spock had gotten in there, deep as could be, and blew everything apart. At least that was what the headache pounding in his head told him. He could feel Spock curled up beside him, and something told him that Spock was asleep. He didn't question it, didn't have the mind to even think twice about it. It hurt too bad, and there was something he had to do.
He had smelled Bones on Spock. Faint, he didn't even want to know the extent of it, but he could smell it. Bones was here. Jim conjured images of Spock attacking Bones like Spock had attacked him. Taking Bones... the entire thing made his stomach churn.
He wondered what time it was. Was it still the same day?
Jim forced himself up out of the bed, every muscle in his body complaining, straining. He didn't dare look down at himself, because he had no doubt in his head that he was... disgusting. Mottled in bruises too. Didn't matter, didn't fucking matter. If Bones was here...
Without looking back, Jim walked (limped, crawled, something not dignified that he was choosing not to think about) out of the room. He was grateful when Spock didn't stir. Sorry, Nyota. Can you keep Spock busy while I find out if he raped Bones? It made a quiet,not hysterical sound bubble out of his throat, and Jim walked through the house and looked in one bedroom (nothing there), then the second.
There he saw a body curled in the shadows of the bed.
Jim walked into the room, and croaked out, "Bones?" It barely even came out as a word and far more a sound. He moved to sit on the edge of the bed beside Bones, reaching out to touch his hair.
Swallow, try again. "Bones?" Whisper.
It took time to get Jim to come back into his own head. Spock had gotten in there, deep as could be, and blew everything apart. At least that was what the headache pounding in his head told him. He could feel Spock curled up beside him, and something told him that Spock was asleep. He didn't question it, didn't have the mind to even think twice about it. It hurt too bad, and there was something he had to do.
He had smelled Bones on Spock. Faint, he didn't even want to know the extent of it, but he could smell it. Bones was here. Jim conjured images of Spock attacking Bones like Spock had attacked him. Taking Bones... the entire thing made his stomach churn.
He wondered what time it was. Was it still the same day?
Jim forced himself up out of the bed, every muscle in his body complaining, straining. He didn't dare look down at himself, because he had no doubt in his head that he was... disgusting. Mottled in bruises too. Didn't matter, didn't fucking matter. If Bones was here...
Without looking back, Jim walked (limped, crawled, something not dignified that he was choosing not to think about) out of the room. He was grateful when Spock didn't stir. Sorry, Nyota. Can you keep Spock busy while I find out if he raped Bones? It made a quiet,
There he saw a body curled in the shadows of the bed.
Jim walked into the room, and croaked out, "Bones?" It barely even came out as a word and far more a sound. He moved to sit on the edge of the bed beside Bones, reaching out to touch his hair.
Swallow, try again. "Bones?" Whisper.
