![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kathierif_ficTitle: Role Model
Author: Kathie
Fandom: Star Trek XI
Pairing: none
Rating: FRT-13
Disclaimer: Not mine, no infringement...
Summary: Jim Kirk was not afraid of sickbay. What kind of role model would be afraid of sickbay?
A/N: Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
hc_bingo, prompt toothache. Millions of thanks for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ginny305 because without her, this wouldn't be so much fun. <3 1179 words.
Jim Kirk was not afraid of sickbay.
His best friend worked there, and he spent at least some of his time there voluntarily, cheering up injured crew members (if he had the time) or annoying Bones (if there wasn't an emergency that required one or both of them to be at their most earnest, most serious best behavior).
He wasn't afraid of taking the turbolift down and just walking in there.
And the slight pain he felt in his lower jaw really wasn't that bad. It would probably go away on its own if he just managed to stop prodding at the offending tooth with his tongue for five minutes. Spock was already giving him curious looks, one of his elegantly arched eyebrows raised high.
Jim sighed and turned his attention to the back of Sulu's and Chekov's heads. There wasn't even an emergency to distract him from the slight pulsing that had started about an hour ago, from the second tooth from the back on the right side of his lower jaw.
It really wasn't that bad.
He shifted in his chair and carefully pressed his hand against his cheek. It felt blessedly cool against the tender skin of his cheek - a cheek that felt swollen.
"Captain?"
He jumped slightly in his chair, but he didn't remove his hand from his cheek. If he could hide the swelling, nobody would notice that the minor annoyance of a toothache was capable of throwing him off his game so much.
"Spock?" he asked back, but it lacked his usual playful humor.
"Jim...are you feeling well?" Spock asked, curiosity and something that in humans would be worry glinting in his eyes.
"Yeah, of course. Why wouldn't I?" He had gotten through worse. He had barely flinched when Spock had tried to strangle him. This wasn't even on the same scale as getting strangled by a Vulcan. Or getting into a fight with a Romulan. This minor toothache shouldn't even register with him.
He grimaced as a fresh wave of pain shot through the side of his face. The pain was getting worse with every second he stayed here on the bridge. Shift or no shift, if he caught one of his crew members trying to hide a toothache, he would send them to sickbay immediately.
But he was the Captain. The rules that others had to follow didn't count for him. He was the Captain and the role model for every single member of his crew. He would not give in to a toothache, not when he only had about an hour left on his shift before he could flee and self-medicate with some alcohol.
Spock looked at him as if he wanted to say something, but then, he just raised his eyebrow again and turned back to his work station.
Jim slowly released the breath he'd been holding. The air whistling through his teeth sent a fresh wave of agony through him, an agony that couldn't be stopped by simply clenching his teeth and balling his hands into fists. If anything, it made it worse.
A tiny grunt of pain escaped him, but it was quiet enough that it was masked by the constant beep of the computers around him. Neither Sulu nor Chekov turned around with worried faces to ask him if he was okay, and both Spock and Uhura had turned their backs to him as they were quietly and efficiently working at their stations.
Jim focused on breathing quietly and relaxing the tense muscles in his shoulders before another wave of pain could hit him and make him feel even worse. It was as if his tooth was pulsing stronger now, like a homing beacon or a bomb that would explode any minute now...
The doors to the turbolift hissed open. Jim barely looked up when Doctor McCoy stepped onto the bridge, his steps quick and calmly measured.
These weren't the steps of a man who got bored by the inactivity in his own domain and had decided to stroll up to the bridge for a change of scenery. These were the kind of steps Jim knew from hospitals, emergencies and official business. They were the purposeful steps of a man on a mission.
He tried to lift his head, to ask Bones what was going on, but he felt tired suddenly, his limbs heavy and his head rolling back, the muscles in his neck no longer capable of holding its weight up.
Vaguely, as if from far away, he could hear a growled "Dammit, Jim!" and the prick of a hypospray being pressed against his neck.
Then, blessed silence surrounded him.
~*+*~
He woke up slowly to the all-too familiar sounds of Bones' empire. He was feeling blessedly pain-free, the insistent pulsing of his tooth remarkably absent.
"You're awake."
Bones stepped up to him. Knowing his old friend, he had been fretting and hovering since the second he'd gotten Jim in his clutches, worried like a mother hen armed with hyposprays. Instead of annoying him, the thought made him feel warm and almost cared for in a way he hadn't felt since he had been a small kid.
"Wha' happen'?" he slurred and lifted a clumsy hand to press against his cheek while his tongue poked carefully at the row of teeth in his lower jaw, trying to localize the aching tooth.
"Stop that," Bones grumbled. "Don't worry, we removed it."
He ran a hand through his hair and briefly grasped Jim's hand, to squeeze it. "Spock called me to the bridge, citing a medical emergency concerning you. You lost consciousness just as I arrived." He sighed. "Dammit Jim, why didn't you come to me? Why do I always have to drag you here?"
Jim swallowed. His throat was feeling tight and dry, probably from the medication McCoy had, undoubtedly, dosed him with. "'m the Captain," he murmured. "Supposed to be...role model."
"You're an idiot, that's what you are." Bones stopped himself and inhaled deeply. "Andorian Toothrot. You're lucky you only lost that one tooth and not your entire jaw, Jim," he explained, his voice tightly controlled in a way that told Jim more than he wanted to know about how close he'd come.
"If Spock hadn't called me and you'd managed to hide this for another hour, your damned brain would have started to rot! The green-blooded hobgoblin probably saved your life, and this time, there weren't even any Klingons involved!"
Jim grimaced. What a role model he was, he thought grimly. It wasn't a surprise that Bones thought him to be an idiot.
"Sorry," he mumbled thickly. "Sorry, Bones."
Bones exhaled sharply. He didn't say anything, but when Jim felt a warm, broad hand squeeze his shoulder and then brush through his hair, he knew that his friend had forgiven him.
His tongue curled again at the place where a pulsing, aching tooth had been and where he could feel nothing but healing flesh now.
He should've gone to Bones immediately he'd felt the first wave of pain, he thought before drifting off to sleep again.
After all, he wasn't afraid of sickbay.
And as a Captain, he should be a responsible role model and show his crew that there was nothing to be scared of, anyway...
~end.
Author: Kathie
Fandom: Star Trek XI
Pairing: none
Rating: FRT-13
Disclaimer: Not mine, no infringement...
Summary: Jim Kirk was not afraid of sickbay. What kind of role model would be afraid of sickbay?
A/N: Written for
hc_bingo, prompt toothache. Millions of thanks for ginny305 because without her, this wouldn't be so much fun. <3 1179 words.Jim Kirk was not afraid of sickbay.
His best friend worked there, and he spent at least some of his time there voluntarily, cheering up injured crew members (if he had the time) or annoying Bones (if there wasn't an emergency that required one or both of them to be at their most earnest, most serious best behavior).
He wasn't afraid of taking the turbolift down and just walking in there.
And the slight pain he felt in his lower jaw really wasn't that bad. It would probably go away on its own if he just managed to stop prodding at the offending tooth with his tongue for five minutes. Spock was already giving him curious looks, one of his elegantly arched eyebrows raised high.
Jim sighed and turned his attention to the back of Sulu's and Chekov's heads. There wasn't even an emergency to distract him from the slight pulsing that had started about an hour ago, from the second tooth from the back on the right side of his lower jaw.
It really wasn't that bad.
He shifted in his chair and carefully pressed his hand against his cheek. It felt blessedly cool against the tender skin of his cheek - a cheek that felt swollen.
"Captain?"
He jumped slightly in his chair, but he didn't remove his hand from his cheek. If he could hide the swelling, nobody would notice that the minor annoyance of a toothache was capable of throwing him off his game so much.
"Spock?" he asked back, but it lacked his usual playful humor.
"Jim...are you feeling well?" Spock asked, curiosity and something that in humans would be worry glinting in his eyes.
"Yeah, of course. Why wouldn't I?" He had gotten through worse. He had barely flinched when Spock had tried to strangle him. This wasn't even on the same scale as getting strangled by a Vulcan. Or getting into a fight with a Romulan. This minor toothache shouldn't even register with him.
He grimaced as a fresh wave of pain shot through the side of his face. The pain was getting worse with every second he stayed here on the bridge. Shift or no shift, if he caught one of his crew members trying to hide a toothache, he would send them to sickbay immediately.
But he was the Captain. The rules that others had to follow didn't count for him. He was the Captain and the role model for every single member of his crew. He would not give in to a toothache, not when he only had about an hour left on his shift before he could flee and self-medicate with some alcohol.
Spock looked at him as if he wanted to say something, but then, he just raised his eyebrow again and turned back to his work station.
Jim slowly released the breath he'd been holding. The air whistling through his teeth sent a fresh wave of agony through him, an agony that couldn't be stopped by simply clenching his teeth and balling his hands into fists. If anything, it made it worse.
A tiny grunt of pain escaped him, but it was quiet enough that it was masked by the constant beep of the computers around him. Neither Sulu nor Chekov turned around with worried faces to ask him if he was okay, and both Spock and Uhura had turned their backs to him as they were quietly and efficiently working at their stations.
Jim focused on breathing quietly and relaxing the tense muscles in his shoulders before another wave of pain could hit him and make him feel even worse. It was as if his tooth was pulsing stronger now, like a homing beacon or a bomb that would explode any minute now...
The doors to the turbolift hissed open. Jim barely looked up when Doctor McCoy stepped onto the bridge, his steps quick and calmly measured.
These weren't the steps of a man who got bored by the inactivity in his own domain and had decided to stroll up to the bridge for a change of scenery. These were the kind of steps Jim knew from hospitals, emergencies and official business. They were the purposeful steps of a man on a mission.
He tried to lift his head, to ask Bones what was going on, but he felt tired suddenly, his limbs heavy and his head rolling back, the muscles in his neck no longer capable of holding its weight up.
Vaguely, as if from far away, he could hear a growled "Dammit, Jim!" and the prick of a hypospray being pressed against his neck.
Then, blessed silence surrounded him.
~*+*~
He woke up slowly to the all-too familiar sounds of Bones' empire. He was feeling blessedly pain-free, the insistent pulsing of his tooth remarkably absent.
"You're awake."
Bones stepped up to him. Knowing his old friend, he had been fretting and hovering since the second he'd gotten Jim in his clutches, worried like a mother hen armed with hyposprays. Instead of annoying him, the thought made him feel warm and almost cared for in a way he hadn't felt since he had been a small kid.
"Wha' happen'?" he slurred and lifted a clumsy hand to press against his cheek while his tongue poked carefully at the row of teeth in his lower jaw, trying to localize the aching tooth.
"Stop that," Bones grumbled. "Don't worry, we removed it."
He ran a hand through his hair and briefly grasped Jim's hand, to squeeze it. "Spock called me to the bridge, citing a medical emergency concerning you. You lost consciousness just as I arrived." He sighed. "Dammit Jim, why didn't you come to me? Why do I always have to drag you here?"
Jim swallowed. His throat was feeling tight and dry, probably from the medication McCoy had, undoubtedly, dosed him with. "'m the Captain," he murmured. "Supposed to be...role model."
"You're an idiot, that's what you are." Bones stopped himself and inhaled deeply. "Andorian Toothrot. You're lucky you only lost that one tooth and not your entire jaw, Jim," he explained, his voice tightly controlled in a way that told Jim more than he wanted to know about how close he'd come.
"If Spock hadn't called me and you'd managed to hide this for another hour, your damned brain would have started to rot! The green-blooded hobgoblin probably saved your life, and this time, there weren't even any Klingons involved!"
Jim grimaced. What a role model he was, he thought grimly. It wasn't a surprise that Bones thought him to be an idiot.
"Sorry," he mumbled thickly. "Sorry, Bones."
Bones exhaled sharply. He didn't say anything, but when Jim felt a warm, broad hand squeeze his shoulder and then brush through his hair, he knew that his friend had forgiven him.
His tongue curled again at the place where a pulsing, aching tooth had been and where he could feel nothing but healing flesh now.
He should've gone to Bones immediately he'd felt the first wave of pain, he thought before drifting off to sleep again.
After all, he wasn't afraid of sickbay.
And as a Captain, he should be a responsible role model and show his crew that there was nothing to be scared of, anyway...
~end.