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Bones and Jim left the Captain's office soon after the surprise meeting with Emma and David. From the moment the older pair left the office Bones hadn't spoken, just nodded in response to Jim's suggestion that they return to their room. They were both quiet in the turbolift, and made it inside their room before either man uttered a word.
Bones headed over to the bed and flopped down face forward. He grabbed a pillow and pulled it under his head, wrapping his arms around it. Jim stood just inside the closing door and unlike his usual self, had no idea what to do or say. Jim could remember that night long ago when Bones had reeked of cheap bourbon and cigarettes and wept a few hot tears. It was the only time Jim could remember Bones ever having cried in his presence. Looking back, it had been heartbreaking and awkward and it hadn't gotten any better since.
Jim walked across the room and sat on the edge of the bed, slid his hand across Bones' back and remembered making the same clumsy gesture in the dark of their dorm room. The difference was this time it didn't feel awkward to let his hand curl under Bones' opposite side and lay down beside him. The words didn't come any easier, they stayed lodged somewhere between his heart and his mind so instead he let his actions speak for him. His lips found the back of Bones' neck, just where the tiny sensitive hairs ended and the skin of his back began. A silent gesture that said I'm here.
Bones shivered at the touch, turning into Jim's arms and pulling him close. He buried his face in Jim's neck, unconsciously rocking a little in his arms as they held each other. Eventually he let out a deep sigh. "I don't know, Jim. I just don't know anymore."
Jim nodded as much as the space between his chin and the top of Bones' head would allow. His voice was barely a murmur as he said, "I know." After a small silence, Jim followed up with, "I took you off shift for the rest of the night."
His hands finding the small of Jim's back, Bones grunted a soft "Thanks," and pulled Jim even closer still. "My dad's alive," he whispered into the side of Jim's head. "Both of them are here. I just don't know what to think."
"No one expects you to know what to think. It's not like ever been a report of people coming back from the dead before. I think this is one of those things that you just have to take one day at a time. At least you and your dad went out on good terms." Jim could remember though, what Bones had said that drunken night. Something about his dad -... fucked that up to. Jim's next words were a little more cautious, as he added, "...at least as far as I know. You never did tell me what happened between you two."
Bones slid a hand up to thread in Jim's hair as his body stiffened. Fingers tightened on the hem of Jim's shirt as Bones finally spoke. "I killed him."
What? Jim quickly started to calculate and came up with that Bones had to have been somewhere between 26 and 28 when his dad had died. "W-what do you mean, you killed him?" Despite Bones' sometimes gruff manner, and his affinity for hypos and the painful application of them, Bones was the last person Jim would have pegged to be a potential killer. Hadn't he said something like that just the other day?
The voice Bones used was surprisingly calm, talking as if he were relating some story. "He was sick. Dying, really. Didn't want him to suffer, so..." A long shuddering sigh escaped as he relaxed a little in Jim's arms. "So one afternoon I said good-bye and filled him full of cyalodin. Stopped his heart."
"So you stopped your dad from suffering, by killing a man who was already dying anyway? Isn't that the point of what doctors do, they ease people's suffering?" Even as the words left his mouth, Jim realized the words didn't sound as sympathetic as he had meant them. "Um- I mean, did he ask you to do it, or did you decide on your own?"
"He asked me to do it," Bones answered, in that same strange voice.
"So you carried out his final wish?" Jim said, a little confused. Then he felt Bones begin to shake, heard his breath hitching, and before he knew what was happening he heard Bones let out a soft sob and Jim felt something wet against his neck.
Oh fuck. I made him cry. Jim wrapped his arms around Bones, not making mention of it at all. He knew if he started to cry in front of Bones, he wouldn't want Bones to make a big deal of it either. Instead, he closed his eyes, pressed his lips against the top of Bones' head, and let him get it out.
It was several minutes before Bones let go of the tight grip he had on Jim. After a while, though, he got and headed into the bathroom. Jim could hear the water turn on, and Bones blowing his nose. Soon he returned back to the bed and sat down with a sigh next to Jim. "...sorry 'bout that," he said, sniffing as he nudged Jim's knee with his own and looked embarrassed.
"Don't worry 'bout it." Jim gave Bones a little smile. He reached over and gave Bones' knee a small squeeze, not a whole lot more needed to be said between them. He looked at Bones, and not wanting to make this any worse than it already was, Jim decided to change the subject. "Before Emma and David showed up I was getting kinda hungry. Want me to bring you back something?" he asked, thinking Bones might need a little time to himself.
A slow nod from Bones' direction. "Yeah," he said quietly, looking over at Jim, his eyes still a little red and swollen. "Just some soup or something, nothing big." He returned the smile, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Thanks, Jim. For everything."
Jim turned to Bones and leaned in close. Cupping his cheek with one hand, he ran his thumb gently under Bones' eye, as if wiping away a lingering tear. "Sure thing. I'll be back before you know it." He watched as Bones lay back down, arms wrapped around a pillow, Jim felt his heart pound in his chest. What else did the world have in store for Bones? Why did it seem to get some gleeful pleasure out of making him suffer over and over again?
Those were the thoughts that plagued Jim as he left the quarters he shared with Bones. The thoughts followed him as he made his way down toward the mess hall. Over the last few months it seemed that Bones could not catch a break.
All of those thoughts must have been on his face as he walked down the hall, but all of them seemed to vanish the moment that Sam came into view.
Bones headed over to the bed and flopped down face forward. He grabbed a pillow and pulled it under his head, wrapping his arms around it. Jim stood just inside the closing door and unlike his usual self, had no idea what to do or say. Jim could remember that night long ago when Bones had reeked of cheap bourbon and cigarettes and wept a few hot tears. It was the only time Jim could remember Bones ever having cried in his presence. Looking back, it had been heartbreaking and awkward and it hadn't gotten any better since.
Jim walked across the room and sat on the edge of the bed, slid his hand across Bones' back and remembered making the same clumsy gesture in the dark of their dorm room. The difference was this time it didn't feel awkward to let his hand curl under Bones' opposite side and lay down beside him. The words didn't come any easier, they stayed lodged somewhere between his heart and his mind so instead he let his actions speak for him. His lips found the back of Bones' neck, just where the tiny sensitive hairs ended and the skin of his back began. A silent gesture that said I'm here.
Bones shivered at the touch, turning into Jim's arms and pulling him close. He buried his face in Jim's neck, unconsciously rocking a little in his arms as they held each other. Eventually he let out a deep sigh. "I don't know, Jim. I just don't know anymore."
Jim nodded as much as the space between his chin and the top of Bones' head would allow. His voice was barely a murmur as he said, "I know." After a small silence, Jim followed up with, "I took you off shift for the rest of the night."
His hands finding the small of Jim's back, Bones grunted a soft "Thanks," and pulled Jim even closer still. "My dad's alive," he whispered into the side of Jim's head. "Both of them are here. I just don't know what to think."
"No one expects you to know what to think. It's not like ever been a report of people coming back from the dead before. I think this is one of those things that you just have to take one day at a time. At least you and your dad went out on good terms." Jim could remember though, what Bones had said that drunken night. Something about his dad -... fucked that up to. Jim's next words were a little more cautious, as he added, "...at least as far as I know. You never did tell me what happened between you two."
Bones slid a hand up to thread in Jim's hair as his body stiffened. Fingers tightened on the hem of Jim's shirt as Bones finally spoke. "I killed him."
What? Jim quickly started to calculate and came up with that Bones had to have been somewhere between 26 and 28 when his dad had died. "W-what do you mean, you killed him?" Despite Bones' sometimes gruff manner, and his affinity for hypos and the painful application of them, Bones was the last person Jim would have pegged to be a potential killer. Hadn't he said something like that just the other day?
The voice Bones used was surprisingly calm, talking as if he were relating some story. "He was sick. Dying, really. Didn't want him to suffer, so..." A long shuddering sigh escaped as he relaxed a little in Jim's arms. "So one afternoon I said good-bye and filled him full of cyalodin. Stopped his heart."
"So you stopped your dad from suffering, by killing a man who was already dying anyway? Isn't that the point of what doctors do, they ease people's suffering?" Even as the words left his mouth, Jim realized the words didn't sound as sympathetic as he had meant them. "Um- I mean, did he ask you to do it, or did you decide on your own?"
"He asked me to do it," Bones answered, in that same strange voice.
"So you carried out his final wish?" Jim said, a little confused. Then he felt Bones begin to shake, heard his breath hitching, and before he knew what was happening he heard Bones let out a soft sob and Jim felt something wet against his neck.
Oh fuck. I made him cry. Jim wrapped his arms around Bones, not making mention of it at all. He knew if he started to cry in front of Bones, he wouldn't want Bones to make a big deal of it either. Instead, he closed his eyes, pressed his lips against the top of Bones' head, and let him get it out.
It was several minutes before Bones let go of the tight grip he had on Jim. After a while, though, he got and headed into the bathroom. Jim could hear the water turn on, and Bones blowing his nose. Soon he returned back to the bed and sat down with a sigh next to Jim. "...sorry 'bout that," he said, sniffing as he nudged Jim's knee with his own and looked embarrassed.
"Don't worry 'bout it." Jim gave Bones a little smile. He reached over and gave Bones' knee a small squeeze, not a whole lot more needed to be said between them. He looked at Bones, and not wanting to make this any worse than it already was, Jim decided to change the subject. "Before Emma and David showed up I was getting kinda hungry. Want me to bring you back something?" he asked, thinking Bones might need a little time to himself.
A slow nod from Bones' direction. "Yeah," he said quietly, looking over at Jim, his eyes still a little red and swollen. "Just some soup or something, nothing big." He returned the smile, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Thanks, Jim. For everything."
Jim turned to Bones and leaned in close. Cupping his cheek with one hand, he ran his thumb gently under Bones' eye, as if wiping away a lingering tear. "Sure thing. I'll be back before you know it." He watched as Bones lay back down, arms wrapped around a pillow, Jim felt his heart pound in his chest. What else did the world have in store for Bones? Why did it seem to get some gleeful pleasure out of making him suffer over and over again?
Those were the thoughts that plagued Jim as he left the quarters he shared with Bones. The thoughts followed him as he made his way down toward the mess hall. Over the last few months it seemed that Bones could not catch a break.
All of those thoughts must have been on his face as he walked down the hall, but all of them seemed to vanish the moment that Sam came into view.
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