Author's note: I wrote this on a whim. This actually happened in my real life and I just felt the need to broadcast it to the world. think of it as a coping mechanism. (P.S. I cried while writing it.)

Jim Kirk lay in bed curled into a small ball, or as small as his lithe frame would let him be. Tears slipped silently down his face.

She was gone.

She hadn't been his mother and he sure as hell hadn't been her son, but she had taken him in when he was a young punk, making sure he had a nice hot meal and a place to sleep should he need it. She was right proud of him when he became captain of the finest ship in the Fleet. She had even come to graduation.

He had locked Bones out of his room. The doctor was his best friend but right now he didn't want anyone to see him like this. Everyone knew him as fearless Captain Kirk, believer in no-win situations. But he was more vulnerable than he let on, and that vulnerability stemmed from his family. No father, a brother who walked out of his life, a mother who looked down on him because her husband had died saving him and an abusive stepfather who only got his kicks by using his younger stepson as a punching bag.

And Bones was the only one who knew any of that. He had let it slip one night when he had been drunk back in the academy, telling everything to the doctor. That was why locking the doctor out of his room for one night hadn't been easy but he didn't want Bones seeing him cry. No one had, not since he was seven and Sam left.

The doors slid open.

Jim didn't move as he heard the sound of familiar boots coming into his room. He tensed when his bed dipped and said boots were taken off, heard them thud in the corner where they landed.

"Go away, Bones." His voice was hostile as he tried to cover up the tears that clogged his throat.

"Can't do that, kid." They stayed in aggravated silence with Jim curled on his side facing away from the doctor and Bones reclining against the wall by the head of the bed. "What was she like?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Sometimes it's better if you do."

There was an aggravated sigh as Jim rolled over and flung one arm over his eyes, obviously shading Bones from his bright, blood-shot, blue eyes. "She was wonderful. I met her one day at school when she picked up her son. I must have looked really pitiful that day. She took me home, gave me something to eat, and made sure I did my homework, which I never did. After a while I began to feel like one of the family. Then Frank found out." He choked on the name but kept going in a shaky voice. "He threatened to call the cops on her, but she pulled a one-eighty on him and threatened to call them on him if he ever laid a hand on me again. I obviously wasn't very good at hiding the bruises. I got to live with her for a while, until they moved from Riverside. She kept in contact, even came to Starfleet graduation when I was promoted to captain. I remember her smile. It was bright as it always had been but she looked tired."

Bones had reached over and was now gently running his fingers through messy blond locks. "Cancer does that to people."

Jim's arm fell from his eyes and he looked up at Bones with such hostility that it hurt the doctor to look at him, but he did it anyway. "Don't say that, Bones." He looked over the doctor's shoulder then, his jaw working with the unsaid question. Finally he voiced it, letting the tears in his throat choke him up. "Why couldn't they operate, Bones? Why did they let her die?"

"They didn't, kid. She got the best possible care. It's just pancreatic cancer is a hard cancer to fight, even in the 23rd Century. The position of the pancreas makes it impossible to operate. The only thing doctors can do is prescribe medications that help alleviate the pain until the person's body finally gives in."

Suddenly Jim sat up and grabbed his shirt, pain so evident in his eyes it hurt him to see it. "Tell me you could have done something, Bones." Bones met his gaze honestly, not letting him miss the finality of what he said. "You could have done something, Bones!" His voice cracked as he shook the doctor.

"There was nothing I could have done, Jim. She was in stage four."

Jim stared at him with wide, unbelieving blue eyes. His hands fell slack and finally went up to his face as he suddenly began to sob loudly, his grief finally taking its toll on him. Feeling the his own tears prick at the corners of his eyes for the pain the younger man felt, Bones scooted closer and wrapped his arms around Jim, bringing him securely against his body. Jim fell slack against him, driving them both to the mattress. Bones laid there, cradling the young looking man against him as he cried like a child. He had never cried this hard, not even when he found out his actual mother had died.

A few minutes later, Jim started hiccupping. Bones rubbed his back comfortingly as they adjusted their position but didn't otherwise move. Jim shifted his head a little higher on Bones' shoulder, placing his forehead against the other man's warm neck as his right hand came up to his mouth.

"Feel better?" Bones asked quietly.

Jim nodded distractedly. When he spoke, his voice was a hoarse. "Don't leave."

Bones nuzzled his face into the soft head of hair. "Wouldn't dream of it, kid."

That is how they slept all night and well into Alpha Shift.