leftwithmybones | (no subject)

Jim's been a kid for days now and hell if it isn't getting on every one of his damn nerves. Without his memories, McCoy is just another stranger to him and it's taking all his energy just to make sure Jim doesn't do something stupid like run off and get himself into trouble. Even feeding him, which is priority, is taking energy that McCoy barely has.

He's half grateful, though, that Jim doesn't know him to understand what's happening. Whatever disease is ravaging his body is getting worse. His white blood cell count this morning had been beyond goddamn terrible and he'd barely been able to get up out of bed. That's why when he'd woken up and kid-Jim hadn't been in sight, he decides not to chase him.

Sitting up slowly and trying not to pass out from dizziness, he notices something under the covers.

Something round, squeaking, and moving.

"What in the hell..." He flips the covers back to reveal a tribble. That, or the dogs in Darrow have gotten really strange-looking. Reaching out with weak fingers, he corrals the critter back into his arms to look for eyes, but when he doesn't find anything that makes this a dog, he knows that it's from back home. The thing is, he doesn't understand why. He's had this thing in his lab for ages in an inert, non-reproductive state, but it's here now.

Is this some kind of stupid message that he needs a service tribble for the last days of his life? It's not a good joke, if he's heard of one. It occurs to him, then, that he better run some blood tests and a scan and make sure this is actually the one from his lab and not just a random tribble, because otherwise, Darrow's about to have a population problem.

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"I don't want you to get rid of your leather jacket, I love that damn thing," he promises, his arm getting a bit heavy so he switches to the other to keep stroking his fingers through Jim's hair. "I hope I wasn't too scary," he says. "I know sometimes kids get a little nervous around the big scary doctor, especially when he's brandishing needles."

"Only at first," Jim assures him, "And only because you were an adult. You've always had a good bedside manner, Bones." He pulls Bones' hand from his hair and holds it between his own before Bones gets overtired. "Still hated the hypos, though."

"Yeah, well, given the vitamin deficiencies you were sporting, it was that or you weren't eating anything but bland mushy bananas," is his reply, exhaling in gratitude when Jim takes his hand between his own. He closes his eyes for just a moment, curling in against Jim before opening them. "Made me miss my own kid," he admits. "Running around after you, even being frustrated. Made me miss it."

"I wish you could see her," says Jim, not adding one last time like he's thinking. This tribble idea is still too miraculous to be trusted, and Jim draws a breath.

He reaches for Bones' PADD and puts it in his hands. "Start making lists of what you need to work on this tribble. I'll get everything back here."

"Yeah, me too," is his sad response, reaching for the PADD in order to start making notes. "I'm gonna need a centrifuge and a lot of supplies for samples. Blood, marrow, urine if we figure out how a tribble does that. Once I figure that out, I'm going to need to adapt whatever's in these cells into something that I can use. Probably need some stuff in case of immuno-compromisation," he rattles.

"You're probably going to have to help withdraw the samples, if my hands shake too much," he admits.

"Of course," says Jim. He's not squeamish exactly, but it does turn his stomach to think of jabbing things into that little tribble. If it helps Bones, though, he won't hesitate.

"We've got some of that here. The rest I can lift from the hospital and the labs on campus. You want me to go right now?"

"If you're okay to travel," is his only clarification, seeing as Jim's just come back from being a kid, as far as McCoy's concerned and he doesn't want him running off before he's ready. "But, yeah, we could start working on synthesizing the blood into a first trial by this evening," he says, hope glimmering in his eyes.

"Jim, I swear to god, I'm not dying. Okay? Not with a chance like this."