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Leonard is six when it happens.
A category five kaiju off the coast of San Francisco. The biggest one the Earth has ever seen. He’s too young to remember it exactly, but the event becomes a milestone in a matter of months. Where were you when Kelvin Delta took down the beast, Narada? It becomes a talking point, a story people tell when there’s a lull in conversation.
Did you hear one of the pilots, Robau, died immediately upon engagement?
Did you know that George Kirk, the jaeger program’s golden boy, took on the monster by himself?
He saved the world, and Narada disappeared into the breach.
They say it was too much for one man. They say the weight of piloting Kelvin Delta alone was enough to take him down.
They say his wife and former co-pilot was watching from the shatterdome as the jaeger made its return home only to stop moving just out of reach of the coast.
They say her water broke when she watched her husband pulled from the unresponsive jaeger.
They say a lot of things, but all Leonard knows is he gets that day off from school after that.
--
Leonard is twenty-eight when his life goes pear-shaped.
He winds up fatherless, divorced, denied access to his daughter, and somewhere between blindingly drunk and painfully hungover on a recruitment plane for the Jaeger Program. He doesn’t remember much, only a bunch of crap about the safety of Earth and needing good men like him.
He snorts at the memory. Good went down the drain along with ‘Do No Harm’ when he watched his father’s vitals trickle away.
The only saving grace to this farce is that the kid next to him on the plane, all busted nose and bloodstained shirt, seems to be just as pathetic as Leonard.
It’s the only reason he shares his flask.
--
They’ve only just disembarked the plane when he learns the busted up kid is none other than James T Kirk, son of the Jaeger program’s biggest hero. Born in the San Francisco Shatterdome’s medbay as his father’s body was pulled from Kelvin Delta just a mile offshore.
The first time someone says it, Leonard sees the kid’s hackles go up immediately. Fight, not flight, and Leonard claps him on the back and tugs him towards the recruitment intake instead.
It’s Jim and Bones, from there.
--
“You should’ve seen it, Bones.”
“I’ll pass.” Bones rolls his eyes, though his back is to his patient as he digs around the drawer for a fresh roll of gauze.
“Cat 4! Biggest one we’ve seen in years. Ugly motherfucker, with these ridges on its forehead that just… Ow!” Jim’s exuberant tale is interrupted only momentarily, as Bones wrenches his knee into position to start wrapping it up. “We gave it such an ass kicking, they’ll be showing this vid in training for years.”
“I’d be more impressed if you’d managed to kick its ass and avoid spraining your knee and breaking two ribs.”
“That wasn’t even a little bit my fault.”
“Of course it wasn’t.”
“It wasn’t!” He might be the best Jaeger pilot in the program, but Jim still whines like a child when Bones is treating him. “Cupcake’s a big blustery hothead, then we get in the drift and he’s all timid and has to be forced into action. He’s miserable to partner with, it takes a lot out of a guy!”
“Then stop partnering with him.”
Jim snorts at that, grinning as he folds his arms behind his head. “Oh, you know me, Bones. Partner hopping around the Shatterdome like the drift-slut I am.”
It’s said lightly, like always, but Bones knows the depth of meaning behind it. Three years in the program and Jim has never managed to be more than passably drift compatible with anyone. He’s a chameleon in the drift, able to be whoever his partner needs him to be. The result is a jack of all trades pilot who can jump from one Jaeger to another wherever he’s needed. An asset to the program, sure, but Bones can’t help but worry about the cost to Jim, in both body and mind.
--
Bones doesn’t know what the Drift is like.
He’s read the literature, he knows the science, he’s seen the results on every pilot that’s come through his medbay but the one constant is that you can’t really know until you’ve been there. He knows that the most successful pilot teams have partnerships so deep you can see it in everything they do. From the quiet serenity between Christopher Pike and Philip Boyce, pilots of the bizarrely named: Number One to the bantering of Scotty and Keenser of Ample Nacelles. No teams are alike, but they complete each other in ways even the most uninterested observer can’t help but notice.
It’s more intimate than lovers, more connected than marriage, more permanent than even the bonds of blood.
In his weakest moments, Bones is thankful Jim moves from partner to partner. At his most selfish, he likes to tell himself that he’s the reason Jim can’t find true drift compatibility.
When they’re sweaty and naked and Jim stares at him blissed out and halfway to sleep, Bones pretends he’s the other half of the blue-eyed man he’s come to love.
Alone in the mornings, he knows he’s wrong.
--
Bones is in the mess hall with Nurse Chapel when they hear a commotion break out down the hall. He cranes his neck in time to see Pike looking exasperated as Jim storms off, clearly unhappy about something.
He hasn’t seen the kid in a few days, but that’s the nature of their friendship. He’s there to patch Jim up when he needs it and warm his bed when he doesn’t want to expend the effort charming someone new. It’s a cynical viewpoint, and one that doesn’t give either of them much credit, but after another barely civil telephone call with his ex-wife, Bones is feeling particularly ornery this afternoon.
Jim may be incapable of connecting to someone on a deeper level, but Bones is the one who makes sure to connect with those who can’t do it back.
He isn’t sure which one of them is the fool.
--
It’s Kobayashi Maru that changes everything.
The biggest, most impressive Jaeger the program has ever produced, it has tech on it that goes leaps and bounds beyond what the other models use. It’s a marvel of trans-continental engineering, the product of the best researchers and engineers across all the Shatterdomes.
And Jim isn’t allowed to pilot it.
“It’s bullshit!” He’s pacing around the small room that Bones calls home, tension radiating from every muscle. “I’m the best pilot we have, I’ve pulled off miracles with second gen relics that shouldn’t even run! I should get the berth on Kobayashi Maru!”
It isn’t the first time Bones has heard this tirade, he knows better than to interject and just stays reclined on his bunk.
“Instead, they’re just leaving the most beautiful Jaeger they’ve ever made gathering rust while they wait for an appropriate team to pilot her.”
Jim may be the greatest pilot the program has ever seen, but they’re not trusting their new machine to an unsteady team. He’s been in and out of the testing chambers for weeks, trying to find anything above even the most basic drift compatibility.
Bones is about to tell him to take his anger down to the training rooms when the klaxons start blaring.
“Category Five Kaiju,” Over the PA system, even the unflappable Uhura sounds worried.
--
Bones isn’t given time to worry, he’s got patients streaming in almost from the beginning. Whatever is out there is tearing through every Jaeger team in the hemisphere and the tension in The Shatterdome is palpable.
He’s always been able to disassociate his fear in times of crisis, he wouldn’t be a successful trauma surgeon if he couldn’t. So he puts his head down and gets to work, patching people up and looking at the displays that show the vitals of active pilots with a dispassionate eye.
There’s too much red, too many teams completely wiped off the board when a new one lights up.
Deploying Now: KOBAYASHI MARU. Pilots: Kirk / Spock.
Certain that Jim must have convinced the bigwigs that desperate times called for desperate measures, Bones gets back to work.
--
When they return, Jim catches Bones’ eyes across the launch bay and there’s something new in his smile, something Bones hasn’t seen before. An awareness of himself, an almost innocent giddiness at getting everything he’s been looking for.
Bones’ answering smile feels strained on his face, but Jim’s already turned back to Spock, excitedly clapping his new partner on the back.
--
Hours later, Bones learns three things.
First, the category five Kaiju that emerged and ripped through almost every Jaeger in range? Biosigns were an identical match to Narada, the one that had killed George Kirk twenty five years prior.
Second, Kobayashi Maru had all but single handedly destroyed it, even managing to rescue Christopher Pike from certain death in the process.
Third, the drift compatibility rating between Jim and Spock is the highest the Jaeger Program has ever seen.
They return, bloody and bruised, but victorious and Bones watches from the sidelines as Jim and his new partner radiate that intangible connection he’d never thought he’d see his best friend achieve.
If he goes to his bunk without congratulating them, it’s because he’s exhausted from surgery.
--
“It’s the strangest thing, Bones.”
He doesn’t want to hear this, but Jim’s laying on his bed, half-drunk and completely philosophical and he can’t really leave his own room to run away.
“There was no push and pull, no fight for control, we just got into the drift and everything connected , like we were always supposed to find each other.”
There’s stars in his eyes and awe in his tone and Bones has never felt more jealous in his life.
--
Bones learns three things about Spock.
First, he’s stoic and calm and logical to a fault. He takes everything literally and has no discernable sense of humour.
Second, he and Jim don’t agree on anything. They argue about how to train, what to do, even where they should eat. It would bring Bones comfort if it wasn’t obvious to anyone with eyes that Jim was loving every minute of it.
Third, Bones doesn’t like him. At all.
--
It’s not that anything changes, not really. They’ve gone longer without fucking, so the sexual dry spell isn’t entirely without precedent. They still drink and laugh and share secrets. Jim is still his best friend.
Bones just isn’t sure he’s Jim’s, anymore.
--
He’s eating alone, glowering at his meal with enough anger to keep anyone else from approaching him when Uhura flaunts good sense and sits across from him.
“You’re being an idiot,” she says without so much as a greeting and Bones just raises an eyebrow to glare at her. “Being drift compatible with someone doesn’t negate the relationships you have with others.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You do, Doctor.” Uhura’s far too intelligent to mince words, she cuts right to the point. “You’ve never had to share Jim before, and that’s difficult. Spock may be his partner in the Jaeger but that’s not the sum total of his life. Get your head out of your ass and claim your place as partner for the rest of it.”
“What business is it of yours? You don’t even like Jim, everyone knows that.”
“No, I don’t.” She just shrugs, digging into her salad. “But I do like you, and I have a better understanding of your situation than you know.”
--
Nibiru is only a Cat 3, but it shows the first cracks in the Kobayashi Maru team.
Bones doesn’t know what went down, only that when they return, the jaeger is taken off active duty and Jim and Spock disappear into meetings with Pike. Uhura catches his eye across the command center at a briefing and he swears there’s something new in her gaze.
Jim never shows up for his post-mission physical.
--
“He’s an asshole,” Jim says flippantly, taking another long drink. “Everything’s about rules and regs and there’s no grey area and I just can’t operate like that. You’ve got to be able to trust your gut sometimes, yknow?”
Bones opens his mouth to answer, but Jim isn’t interested in conversation, just an audience.
“We’re supposed to be this unstoppable team, this unmatched connection and when we’re there, in the drift? Yeah, fuck yeah. It’s great. But we can’t reach that if he’s always worrying about the rules and not just feeling things.”
For all his bluster, Bones knows he doesn’t need to tell Jim that the trust works both ways. Whatever is fracturing his partnership with Spock, he isn’t blameless in it.
“It was easy, the first time. We reached for the drift and it just happened. Now? It’s a fight, all over again. Maybe it was just the adrenaline or something, I don’t know.”
Bones may not be a Jaeger pilot, but he knows that’s not how the drift works.
--
Jim and Spock are reinstated in a whirlwind of activity that has Leonard’s medbay upsettingly empty. Jaeger teams are being ripped apart by the first Cat 6 Kaiju they’ve ever seen. Named Noonien, there aren’t any injured to be brought to The Shatterdome, only bodies.
And Noonien is headed straight for them.
Bones has nothing to do but watch the Jaeger pilot vitals screen and hope that Jim and Spock can get past their issues.
All of their lives depend on the strength of their connection.
He joins the others in the command center, then, watching the fight that’s right on their doorstep. Uhura is clutching his arm as the pilots vitals fluctuate and after feeling her tense each time Spock is injured, he gets it.
When Jim’s vitals blink out entirely, he wishes he didn’t.
--
Bones has operated on Jim before. He’s operated on him in critical situations before. He’s never had the kid coding on his table.
His hands stay steady as he works, but he’s far from disconnected.
--
It takes hours.
Bones never manages to disconnect, not the way a surgeon should. He thinks that maybe it’s his stubborn heart that forces him past every roadblock, every time he thinks about calling it, a flash of what his life would be without Jim in it is enough to press him forward.
It isn’t an option, he’ll bend the laws of nature if he has to.
--
Jim is stable when Bones finally emerges from surgery. He’s exhausted, but there’s an adrenaline running under his skin that tells him sleep will be impossible. He showers instead, grabbing something to eat before heading back to medical to check on Jim.
Spock is there, seated at his partner’s bedside and the heavy knot that’s taken residence in Bones’ chest does a painful tug.
“Doctor McCoy,” Spock says by way of greeting and Bones just nods, stepping to the other side of the medical bed to look at Jim’s chart. Nothing has changed in the short time he was gone, but it’s something to do with his hands and the numbers comfort him.
“Jim is… a remarkable man,” Spock breaks the silence and Bones can feel his hackles rise. The presumption that he needs Spock to tell him anything about Jim… the anger fades away as soon as it manifests, because the truth is that Spock knows Jim in a way Bones can never understand. They’re connected in the drift, inside each other’s minds, and Bones can never compete with that.
“There is a capacity of emotion in him that I will admit staggers me, at times.” Spock is still talking and Bones just stares down at the numbers on Jim’s chart like they’ll unlock the secret to getting the other man to leave. “He is… unused to allowing people to truly know him, unused to allowing anyone close. It is an aspect of the drift we both struggle with. He allows this closeness with me because our partnership requires it.”
Spock barely pauses, but Bones gets the sense that he struggles with his next revelation.
“But you, Doctor? He let you in without realizing it. You are not the only one with fears.”
--
Jim wakes up after two days, and both Bones and Spock are there to welcome him back. He’s got questions; about the kaiju, about their jaeger, about the fight… Bones lets Spock fill him in, busies himself with checking Jim’s vitals and making sure things are in order.
When Jim’s questions are finally through, Spock excuses himself with a nod to Bones and suddenly they’re alone.
There’s a heaviness to the silence, as though Jim knows something has shifted. Maybe he does. Maybe he can read Bones’ heart from his eyes and that’s been the real trouble all along.
Jim reaches out for his hand, and when Bones looks at him, really looks into those blue eyes, he realizes he can see just as much.
“Never do that again,” His voice is a little hoarse, but Jim doesn’t comment.
“I’ll always come home to you.” It’s the promise Bones had thought he’d never hear, and it lifts the weight from his stomach, settles a lightness in his chest and something blooms in his ribcage.
It’s enough. It’s everything.
--
Jim and Spock are an unbeatable team. Time and time, they save the Earth from the kaiju threat. Their faces become synonymous with teamwork, with partnership, with safety. Their drift compatibility is unmatched, their skills never failing. The world looks to them with awe.
Bones is a different kind of partner for Jim. He doesn’t need to be in his head to read the set of his jaw, to know the pleas that hide behind his eyes. He knows when he needs to fight and when he needs to talk and when he just needs to be.
Spock and Jim take care of each other in the jaeger.
Bones takes care of him everywhere else.