A/N: Written for my best friend Codarra (as he's known on Tumblr) as a Christmas present. I never intended to write a Star Trek fic, despite being a life-long fan of the franchise, but we were discussing our wish that the film had contained a certain scene, and he convinced me that, despite my lack of writing talents, I might be able to write something passable. So, it sucks, and I apologise, but I hope it gives you at least some pleasure.

Disclaimer: Star Trek's characters are from the ingenious mind of Gene Roddenberry, and the plot of the reboot belongs to the wonderful talents of Bad Robot. I own nothing. Even this idea is probably insanely unoriginal.

The Med Bay was in complete disarray. Endless test tubes that Bones hadn't had time to properly store or grab onto before the ship went topsy -turvy were broken all over the floor, samples and unknown fluids making a gross, viscous mix on the previously pristine floor. Khan's people were safe, though their canisters had started to crash into each other a bit, and Bones' nurses were busy just trying to get the injured into some state of order. The Med Bay had been over-packed before Jim had done whatever Jim had decided to do, and now the patients were practically overflowing into the corridor.

Bones found himself in front of Carol Marcus, but unlike earlier in the day, any proclivity he'd had toward flirting was far from his mind. Instead, he found himself handing her a small rubber bar and advising her to bite down. Dr Marcus, being as no non-sense as usual in the state of disaster, took it without comment and braced her hand against his shoulder as he placed a hand on her injured knee.

"You ready?" he asked, using his free hand to give her shoulder what he hoped was a comforting squeeze and he ignored the nurses' over-excited chatter around him and tried not to flinch and injure Carol further when one would periodically jerk his arm as they passed by him.

He saw Dr Marcus take in a deep breath, hindered as it was by the rubber bar, and nod her head. Bracing himself for the inevitable cringe-worthy cracking sound, he set her knee back into position. Despite Carol Marcus' fight to contain it, a sharp cry burst forth from her mouth, but Bones wasn't embarrassed for her. Jim was always a lot more of a cry baby whenever he had an injury, and even that hadn't been enough to keep Bones from spending most of his spare time with the man.

"You going to be alright?" he asked her, his hand leaving her injured knee to gesture to a nurse to come and seal up the wound. His back was already turned and he was on his way to see to another patient before she had time to answer, but he heard her affirmative response anyway.

Bones had helped four more people the best he could by the time Spock entered the room. Bones had been about to make a quip about calling Spock if anyone needed a transfusion of green-blooded goblin to their DNA, and ask him if he would please give him room to work in, but before he could get the words out, he saw the expression on Spock's face.

Spock had been crying. Bones wasn't quite sure what to do with that information – declare a national holiday, check to see if he had accidentally entered an alternate universe when the ship had started to go down (or as close to "down" as one got when one was in space, which technically had no direction, scientifically speaking), or run and hide because anything that could cause so visible an emotion in Spock could not be good. The crazy alien hadn't even cried when his planet had been destroyed, but the Vulcan was in visible distress now.

Bones wanted to call Jim because all Bones could think was that Spock was going to have an emotion and Jim was going to miss it and Bones didn't feel like having to listen to Jim whinge about that for the next five years. But when he glanced around the state of the room and thought of what the rest of the Enterprise must look like and the fact that they suddenly had power for some inexplicable and impossible reason, he knew. If Jim were okay, he would be running around the ship, cataloguing the damage and making sure his crew were okay. But Jim was nowhere to be seen and the ship had been in stasis for far too long for him not to have made an appearance.

Bones suddenly felt as though the ship was still falling. He hoped that at any given second the ship lost stasis and test tubes would fall and he'd be falling face forward toward the wall for the forty-seventh time that day, spending all his time praying that he didn't lose what little lunch he had managed to scrounge up during the day's crisis. Because if the ship stayed in stasis, then that would mean that someone had fixed the core, and that would mean they had radiation poisoning – more than Bones would be able to fix – and if it were someone other than Jim, then Jim would have escorted that body to Med Bay like an honour guard out of respect for that crew member's love of the ship. But Jim had not escorted anyone, so that meant that it was Jim who had…

Bones shook his head, refusing to finish the thought. He couldn't – wouldn't—think of his best friend that way. Nothing was true until he saw it with his own two eyes, and he didn't see a body.

No sooner had he acknowledged that thought than Scotty and Sulu and Chekov brought in a covered gurney, Uhura following quietly behind them. Spock said nothing, but merely gave Bones a quiet look, the slight tic in his jaw as he tightened it was the only outward evidence of his emotion now that he had stopped crying.

Bones found himself unable to look away from the covered body on the gurney, but was unwilling to uncover it and see the face beneath it for himself. 'It's not him, it's not him, it's not him,' he repeated silently, as though enough mental coaching would make it truth. Bones felt rather than saw Spock step up beside him.

"Khan is still out there, you know," Bones heard himself say. It was odd to hear his own voice; he hadn't even been actively thinking about Khan. But as soon as he spoke the words, he knew they were true. And he knew it was just as important that someone do something about that truth. After all, Jim had already sacrificed himself to save the ship and bring that monster to justice. If losing Jim to the whole senseless situation turned out to be in vain, Bones wasn't quite sure what he would do.

To Bones' surprise, he heard Spock reply in a tone that was far more gravelly than usual.

"I know."

"You're going to do something about it, aren't you?"

"Yes, I am."

Bones closed his eyes, asking whatever higher powers may or may not exist for forgiveness for saying what he was about to say.

"Good."

When he glanced up at Spock, he saw eyes that were as hardened with sorrow and anger as Bones was sure his own appeared. Bones knew that later he'd feel bad about having broken the Hippocratic Oath, but at that moment, with a quarter of the crew dead, including his best friend on the gurney before him, he couldn't bring himself to feel that bad.

He had joined Starfleet not only because his ex-wife had taken everything in the divorce, but so that he could feel useful. If he couldn't fix his own marriage, at least he could fix the crew. And, as divine karma and irony would have it, the one time it mattered he hadn't been able to fix anything at all.

'Damn it, Jim. I'm a Doctor, not a Messiah.'

For the first time ever, he lamented the fact that he couldn't be what everyone around him was hoping he could be.

Bones watched silently as Uhura and Spock left the room, determination in their step. Spock gave Bones one last look over his shoulder, as though to ensure that Bones would stay with Kirk's body while he was gone. Bones nodded in answer to the silent question. Starfleet would have to pry Kirk's body out of his cold, hard fingers whenever they managed to land the Enterprise back in San Francisco.

Bones really hoped that Spock beat the ever-living mutated blood out of Khan before he killed him. Because Bones couldn't help but think it was probably the last bit of good news he would be hearing for a very long time.