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He opens his eyes. The light that streams through the window behind his bunk causes the ceiling to catch fire. He puts his hand above his face and looks at the light through his fingers.


He’d had that dream again; the one with the blood and screams.


He sighs and sits up. He looked around the slightly messy dorm room that he shared with Jim, who was no where to be found. He rises from his bed and made his way into the bathroom. He stops and looked at himself in the mirror; over two hundred years and he’d barely aged a day. He’d stopped counting after two hundred.


His eyes are tired and dull.


Today he may be John.


He turns the water on in the sink and begins to wash his face. He turns behind him and starts the shower.


The water rushes down overtop his head and down his still hard body. He closes his eyes and thinks of Sam.


The thing he misses the most about her are her eyes; the bluest eyes he’d ever seen… until.


He hears the door open and someone enter his room; his body stiffens as his mind quickly runs through ways to take down a possible enemy.




He lets out a breath and relaxes his muscles. “I’m in here!” he quickly turns off the water and steps out of the shower, grabbing a towel from off the shelf. Just as he secures the towel around his waste the door slides open revealing Jim. He had on a black muscle shirt with a pair of well worn blue jeans. There is color high on his cheeks and his hair is in disarray. He smiles brightly at John with his eyes shining.


The sunlight hit her eyes as she smiled and grabbed his arm, dragging him behind her into the tall, green grass. There was soil on her hands and on her cheek.   


“what?” John looked up at Jim.


Jim gives him a quizzical look; “I said if we don’t hurry up where going to be late for the test.” Jim steps forward into John’s personal space. “Hey, Bones are you all right?”

John turned his eyes away from Jim and took a step back into the bathroom.


McCoy smirked at Jim. “Sure kid, I’m always ready to see you get your ass handed to you.”


Jim grinnes beatifically at him and steps around him to get into the bathroom. “Yeah well not this time; now get the hell out so I can get ready.”


McCoy turns toward the door, “yeah, yeah whatever.”


John walks out of the bathroom stopping to look out the window. It’s a perfect, blue day outside.




McCoy pulls off his surgical scrubs and throws them into the recycle shoot. Pike was stable, but badly injured. It would be awhile before he is able to walk. McCoy turns to Chapel. “I’m taking a break, call me if you need me.” He turned to walk into the CMO’s of – his office. He yells over his shoulder “Try not to need me.”


Chapel called a ‘yes sir’ behind him as the doors close, blocking out the sounds of the busy sick bay. He sank to the floor with his back against the wall; he put his head in his hands and breathes out slowly. The day had been long with the destruction of most of a race and most of the gradating class.


Today he might be Reaper.


Jim was safe, on the bridge with Spock. He feels the white hot anger boil up at the name. He meant what he’d said on the bridge. He understood why he had Jim sent away.


Jim was a soldier.


Soldier’s followed orders.


Sarge laid a hand on his shoulder and looked him over for wounds, when he found none he smiled. He gripped his shoulder and pulled him to his feet. There was still work to be done.      


Reaper pulls himself off the floor and steps out the door and looks out over sick bay, at all the wounded and dying.


McCoy strides out of the office and immediately begins barking out orders rapid fire. The other doctors and nurses scurry around to quickly comply.


Just like good soldiers should.


He sits at the table in the mess hall; his arms bracket the tray in front of him. Jim is sitting between himself and Spock. Uhura sits on his other side with Sulu and Chekhov, Scotty directly in front of him. There is a burst of laughter at a joke Scotty tells; promptly followed by Uhura throwing a baby carrot at his head.  He smiles at their antics and rolls his eyes


Today he was McCoy.


Jim throws an arm over his shoulder and draws him to his side.


Duke put an arm around his neck and laughed into his ear. Destroyer walked up behind him and smacked Duke in the back of the head and took off running. Duke lightly shoved him away as he ran after Destroyer. He stood there and watched them go.   


“Damnit Jim, I’m a Doctor not a couch.”  He doesn’t try to dislodge the arm around his shoulders or the smile on Jim’s face.