A/N: Adult Jim stars in this fic. The previous chapter was really going to be the last drabble in this series because it was the last piece I committed myself to writing without long delays between parts. This scene popped into my head though and I had to write it. I was not going to post it until I wrote two somewhat related drabbles, but as I am not certain when, if ever, I will complete them, I thought to post this. This piece is what I imagined to conclude this series, so I hope you enjoy it!

Promises

Jim woke feeling as if he was being stabbed repeatedly behind his eyes. He gritted his teeth, curling over to his side as his head continued to throb. The chime to his room sounded and he muffled the whimper that threatened to leave his lips.

What the f*ck? What did he do yesterday?

The chime rang again along with a familiar voice. "Jimmy? Speed it up. I'm not in the mood for your games today."

Bones. Jim gripped the edge of his bed and pushed himself up. Bones would make it all better, he thought, as he swung his legs out of bed and stood up. Jim just as quickly experienced vertigo and fell onto the floor, dragging his blanket with him and knocking over several items on his nightstand with a loud crash.

"Shit," he muttered into the carpet. Seriously, what did he drink last night?

The door to his room suddenly swished open. "Jimmy, what—Jim."

Jim pushed himself upright until he could lean his back against his bed and caught sight of Bones gaping at him from the doorway.

"God, Bones," he rasped, wincing at the sound. "What did we drink last night?"

McCoy stood there for another moment before rushing to his side, hands hovering over his arms uncertainly, which Jim found extremely odd. The man never hesitated when anyone's health was concerned, especially his.

"What's wrong?" he asked and that seemed to do the trick because McCoy was suddenly a flurry of movement: scanning him with his medical tricorder, checking his pulse, peering into his eyes, feeling the underside of his face with confident hands.

"Bones?"

McCoy removed his hands from Jim's chin, face intent as he asked, "What's...What do you remember?"

Jim blinked, trying to decipher the apprehension in Bones' face. He closed his eyes after a minute, too exhausted to keep them open and placed his head on the doctor's shoulder when the room wouldn't stop spinning.

McCoy's body tensed momentarily at the action, his concerns skyrocketing, "Jim?"

Jim didn't answer, attempting to think back, though nothing was forthcoming. He then felt a familiar weight settle at the nape of his neck, squeezing once reassuringly and it was as if a gate had opened, a swell of sensations rushing forward in that instant it caused him to inhale sharply.

McCoy's body tensed again and he repeated his name, but Jim didn't feel or hear it. Instead his mind was swirling with fleeting sensations of fear and wariness, before being overwhelmed by feelings of warmth, of being safe, and just love, love, love that he lost his breath all over again.

There were flashes then, slow at first, of running, laughter, Uhura ruffling his hair, Sulu giving him piggyback rides, Spock agreeing with Bones that he shouldn't be eating so many sweets, but sneaking him chocolate bars and cookies anyway when the CMO wasn't looking. And then...and then there was Bones. He was just everywhere, a stern and steady presence that made him feel safe and happy and

"You let me eat Count Chocula cereal," Jim finally said aloud.

McCoy choked back a laugh, the sound reverberating through his chest so that Jim could feel the vibrations. "Yea."

"And hugged me when I had a nightmare," Jim continued, voice caught between awe and disbelief.

McCoy cleared his throat, eyes rising to the ceiling. "You kick, you know."

Jim laughed, shaking his head. "You let me stay anyway."

McCoy merely shrugged in answer.

Jim lifted his head, so he could look his friend in the eye, and said pointedly, "You totally set me up with those jelly beans."

McCoy assumed an innocent look that didn't fool Jim one bit. "You were insistent. I wasn't going to stifle your youthful creativity."

"Right," he replied drily before letting his forehead fall back onto his friend's shoulder. God, he remembered everything. Uhura yelling at anyone and everyone who she determined was a bad influence on him. Scotty teaching him everything he knew of the Enterprise. Chekov getting so excited when he beat level ninety-nine of Hexic. Bones hugging him when he thought Spock was going to die. Spock hugging him when he was all better. "It was fun," Jim said tentatively and a little wistful, his hand unconsciously fisting the hem of Bones' shirt.

"Yea." McCoy's voice was gruff, though before Jim could question it, the doctor continued. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired," he admitted because he was. "And it feels like someone's tap dancing on my brain."

That drew a sharp guffaw out of McCoy. "Anything else?" The tone was familiar and comfortable that Jim couldn't bring himself to give his friend a hard time as he was wont to do.

"I'm a little dizzy and kind of nauseous."

"You're anemic. Must have been the sudden growth," McCoy explained, before speaking into his communicator, "Med Team to the captain's quarters."

Jim inhaled a steady breath, releasing it slowly just like Bones showed him when the idea of space was still entirely too large and scary for his six-year-old self. "Hey, Bones?"

"What, Kid?"

"Yea?"

"When I grow up, I'm going to be the bestest Captain and you're going to be my CMO!"

A snort. "Is that right?"

"Yea! Because you're the bestest friend and doctor in the whole universe!"

A laugh. "You're not so bad yourself, Kid."

"Thanks."

McCoy huffed out a laugh, giving into the urge to ruffle the top of Jim's head lightly and damning the consequences. "Welcome back, Jim."

"So, deal?"

Bright blue eyes met his dead on, pinky extended out in utmost seriousness. McCoy knelt down and hooked his pinky around the smaller one, shaking it firmly.

"It's a deal, Kid."

End