James T. Kirk

Bones didn't know what to do. Instinctively he headed toward Jim, but stopped when right before he reached him. "What- what are you doing?" he asked, his voice a husk of a whisper. He wasn't sure who he was asking - Jim, Sam, both probably.

Was this what they wanted?

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"I don't know." He barely could get the words out. He stared at Sam, eyes huge. "Why... why the fuck did you...?!" It was the only question his mind could wrap around, the only thing he could remotely get out. Why did Sam kiss him?!

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Sam didn't bother to open his eyes. Looking at those watery blue eyes would break him. It was painful even imagining them.

"I don't know," Sam stuttered, shaking his head.

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Bones fell into one of the seats on the side, still watching them. A feeling of... dread crept over him, as if he knew, deep down, that this was his fault. There were all sorts of strange feelings there between the brothers, barely knew each other as men but brothers still - and Bones had come between them in the worst way possible.

Fuck.

But this? Hadn't even crossed his mind, even with the strange predilections that he knew Jim had, and now suspected were in Sam. Did they need that? Did they need each other like that? Was it like when Jim was with the other Jim?

Fuck.

He had to fix this.

Fuck.

"Jim, come here," Bones murmured, pointing at the seat next to him.

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Jim got to his feet, crossing the space and sitting down beside Bones. It was fucked up to realize his hands were actually shaking slightly. What happened? Why the fuck had he gotten hard? Oh fuck, oh fuck, and Bones...

That was worse than anything else. Bones. After their fighting... Bones would have every damn right to just tell him to fuck off.

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He touched the seat on the other side. "Sam," he called out wearily.

"Over here."

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Sam sat up slowly, his breastbone aching from where Jim had kicked him. Cautiously, he made his way to sit where McCoy had indicated. That the doctor hadn't run was a good sign, but Sam didn't trust his luck to hold out much further.

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They were too quiet.

"You two." Bones could feel the sadness in the room, recognizable like a flavor. "I don't think anything needs to be said about this, not if you don't want to." His hand reached for Jim's, lacing their fingers together. "I just... I don't want to be the cause of trouble between you two. You're brothers, that's family. That's important, forever."

His other hand fell on top of Sam's. "Tell me what I can do to make it better for you two. Whatever it is, I'll do it." Just don't hate each other.

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"I don't understand why." Jim rasped out, unable to look up just then. Instead, he looked where his hand was laced with Bones, affectionate and familiar. "Why you two... why Sam..." He gave a twitch of his finger in the direction of where they had just been laying on the floor.

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Bones waited for Sam to say something, but the look on his face was blank, expressionless, the way people looked like when they were in shock.

So he turned to Jim, squeezing their hands. "I don't know how to answer that," Jim, he said honestly. "But I like him. Like him alot." A glance over at Sam, who still looked down. "Doesn't change how I feel 'bout you," he told Jim. "Doesn't change what we are to each other. Hope it doesn't change what you two are to each other."

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Jim gave a sickly little laugh, finally looking at Bones, gesturing, "Doesn't change what we are?! What... what the hell do you call that!?" It was, okay, a little hysterical, but Jim didn't know how to handle this at all.

He was still trying to wrap his head around I got hard for my brother and Bones saw it.

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"It was just me fucking up again," Sam said as he stood. By staying here, he was simply making things worse.

"I'm sorry," he said, mostly to his brother, and walked out of the shuttle.

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...fuck. Bones stood up, turning to Jim. "You. Stay there," he growled, pointing at Jim. Then he walked to the door of the shuttle.

"Sam," he called out, taking a step out. "Hey, stop."

These fucking Kirks were going to be the death of him...

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Sam stopped in his tracks. "Why? Why should I fucking stop? You saw what I was doing to him."

He cringed and muttered, "I'm so fucked up."

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"Look, I'm not gonna pretend to understand that, but... I do know that everyone who's ever cared about him has left, and if you walk away from him right now I might now ever get him put together again."

"Please, come talk to us." he said, taking another step and reaching for Sam's hand. "I'm not askin' for me."

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"You want me to come back just so he can push me away like I deserve?"

He reluctantly let the Doctor have his hand.

"I know you're asking for him, but..." Sam closed his eyes again and shook his head.

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Bones pulled him into a hug, his face murmuring against Sam's neck. "Fuck, Sam, you deserve to be happy too," he whispered. "Talk to him. Let's get this straight right now."

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"How is there any getting his straight?" Sam murmured, pulling McCoy closer to him.

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"I don't wanna be arguing 'bout this anymore. Just want some goddamned resolution." Bones kissed the side of his head. "Either its okay for us or not, and maybe you two..."

Bones didn't know what to think of that. But it wasn't about what he wanted. "Gotta see what he wants. He's scared right now cause he thinks its wrong, that he's wrong, maybe that we're wrong. I just wanna talk about it all."

One last conversation about all of this. If he had to lock them all in that shuttle, that's what he was going to do.

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"There's nothing wrong with him," Sam said as he buried his face in the doctor's shoulder. "There's nothing wrong with you two. It's me."

McCoy was soft and warm. Being close to him was comforting, but Sam knew it couldn't last.

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"Then tell him that there's nothin' wrong with him. And listen to me tell you that there's nothing wrong with you. C'mon," he said, tugging Sam back toward the shuttle. "Please."

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He didn't argue, though he knew he wouldn't believe him. Sam grudgingly broke the hug. They walked back to the shuttle, and Sam followed McCoy in.

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Bones waited until Sam was inside before closing the door behind him. "Computer, lock shuttle door," then gave his authorization code. He took Sam's hand and walked him toward Jim. "We're gonna talk. Or maybe beat the shit out of each other. One way or another, I want some sort of decision before I open that door."

And he fucking meant it. This was getting old. Sitting down on the floor across from Jim, Bones sighed. "Okay, Jim, what are you thinking right now?"

It was as good a place to start as any.

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Half the problem felt like he wasn't thinking anything right now. Or at least, anything solid. Concepts and words kept chasing at each other's heels before he could fully grasp them. Bones had locked the door. He was trapped in here with the man he loved, the man he called brother whom he wanted to kill, everything awkward between them.

Why did important things seem to happen in shuttles?

He tried to work out a thought to start with, something concrete. Everything seemed to stupid when he thought about saying it, no matter how valid he felt in saying it.

"Do you love him?" To Bones, to Sam, he wasn't sure.

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