The fact that something was wrong with the doctor didn’t even cross Jim’s mind. Well, not any more wrong than with every other crew member, after everything they’d been through. Counselling was mandatory, but even then that only did so much, and Jim for one was never particularly keen on talking about all the things he’d been through. Their crash in Altamid and chasing Krall back to Yorktown to stop him was only the most recent of those risky situations, and despite having put his life on the line, he hadn’t come nowhere as near to losing it as he had back when they went up against Khan.
Jim was even less eager to talk about that. And despite numerous attempts from mandatory counsellor meetings, Jim knew very well that he hadn’t shared anything deeper than what lay on the surface. He didn’t want to talk about it, he didn’t want to deal with it. He wanted to forget about it and move on with his life and not let it get to him— any of this. He figured that if he tried hard enough, he’d eventually succeed.
And he had people standing by him, too. People who supported him, who helped him in more ways than he could count. Spock had always been valuable and reliable as his first officer, and over the years they had grown much closer as friends, but Bones was… well, Jim wasn’t sure if he could ever put to put to words just how important Bones was to him. A close friend at first, someone who’d helped him through boring classes and exam seasons, but their friendship had grown in so many senses that at this point Jim was completely sure that Bones was the most important person in his life.
Which only really made him feel especially guilty when he realized he cared about Bones a whole lot more than as just a friend.
But that was something he’d just learned to deal with, another thing to add to the list of stuff he buried deep and learned to ignore so he could be minimally functional. Sometimes the baggage felt like a little too much, but he was lacking on options, so. This’d have to do.
And things were fine, really. They’d made it through yet another dangerous situation (just barely, granted, but still), and everything was patching up slowly. Some things wouldn’t be as easy to handle, some losses wouldn’t be as quick to get over, but Jim had faith in his crew. They were strong, and they’d made it before— they’d make it now, too.
To think that Bones could be having any particular issues hadn’t come to mind, though it probably should have. Of course, even if it did, this would be the last thing crossing his mind. Jim had never even thought about it in these terms, honestly. If he thanked Spock more often than not it was just because he’d always felt a little like the vulcan needed more reassurance, whereas with Bones, he always figured he’d know just how grateful Jim was for everything he did for him, for being part of his life, how much he just meant to him.
So he didn’t think there was anything to address, not until the moment he opened the door to Bones’s office and only barely managed to duck in time to not get a whiskey glass to his face.
“Jesus—!” His attention shifted quickly from the glass to the doctor, though, his frown gaining a worried edge to it as he saw the state he was in. “What the hell? What’s going on, Bones?”
no subject
Jim was even less eager to talk about that. And despite numerous attempts from mandatory counsellor meetings, Jim knew very well that he hadn’t shared anything deeper than what lay on the surface. He didn’t want to talk about it, he didn’t want to deal with it. He wanted to forget about it and move on with his life and not let it get to him— any of this. He figured that if he tried hard enough, he’d eventually succeed.
And he had people standing by him, too. People who supported him, who helped him in more ways than he could count. Spock had always been valuable and reliable as his first officer, and over the years they had grown much closer as friends, but Bones was… well, Jim wasn’t sure if he could ever put to put to words just how important Bones was to him. A close friend at first, someone who’d helped him through boring classes and exam seasons, but their friendship had grown in so many senses that at this point Jim was completely sure that Bones was the most important person in his life.
Which only really made him feel especially guilty when he realized he cared about Bones a whole lot more than as just a friend.
But that was something he’d just learned to deal with, another thing to add to the list of stuff he buried deep and learned to ignore so he could be minimally functional. Sometimes the baggage felt like a little too much, but he was lacking on options, so. This’d have to do.
And things were fine, really. They’d made it through yet another dangerous situation (just barely, granted, but still), and everything was patching up slowly. Some things wouldn’t be as easy to handle, some losses wouldn’t be as quick to get over, but Jim had faith in his crew. They were strong, and they’d made it before— they’d make it now, too.
To think that Bones could be having any particular issues hadn’t come to mind, though it probably should have. Of course, even if it did, this would be the last thing crossing his mind. Jim had never even thought about it in these terms, honestly. If he thanked Spock more often than not it was just because he’d always felt a little like the vulcan needed more reassurance, whereas with Bones, he always figured he’d know just how grateful Jim was for everything he did for him, for being part of his life, how much he just meant to him.
So he didn’t think there was anything to address, not until the moment he opened the door to Bones’s office and only barely managed to duck in time to not get a whiskey glass to his face.
“Jesus—!” His attention shifted quickly from the glass to the doctor, though, his frown gaining a worried edge to it as he saw the state he was in. “What the hell? What’s going on, Bones?”