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Fic: Keep the Door Open, Kirk/McCoy, PG

Title: Keep the Door Open
Author: caitri
Rating: PG
Pairings: Kirk/McCoy
Word Count: 2,446
Summary: Just because Jim Kirk could never stop fighting doesn’t mean Leonard McCoy never stopped hoping. A Supernatural mash-up.
Disclaimer: I know this may come as a shock, but I am not, amazing as it may seem, Gene Roddenberry, J.J. Abrams, Paramount or Bad Robot. Or Eric Kripke and the CW. Just so you know.
A/N: Written for Halloween and so I can remember what it’s like to actually finish something.

At some point in his life—he can’t quite remember when—Leonard McCoy gave up on having a normal life. It wasn’t when Jocelyn left, it wasn’t when Dad died, and oddly enough, it wasn’t even when zombies tried to take over the hospital. No, he thinks it has something to do with when he met the Kirk brothers.

“Is this a day in the life for you?” he had asked that last time, after the exorcism when the fierce black cloud of—of demonic whatever—had rushed out of the gaping mouth of Christine Chapel, leaving her limp and unconscious on the hospital floor. He had checked her vitals, and after ascertaining that she was fine, just unconscious, he picked her up and placed her very carefully on a nearby gurney.

Jim Kirk hadn’t answered, just looked at him with wide blue eyes and a hesitant expression, like he was afraid Leonard was going to up and lose his shit right there. (In fairness, at that moment, Leonard was very close indeed to doing just that, just losing it, but he considered himself nothing if not a professional—and he figured demonic possession had to fall somewhere on the Crap Scale of Life between working the ER on New Year’s and taking a shuttle into upper atmo.)

“Something like,” Sam Kirk, the elder brother, had said gruffly. His gaze flicked between Jim and Leonard like he knew something was up, but was going to pretend for his little brother’s sake that there wasn’t. “I’ll be outside with the ‘car, Jimmy.”

“Yeah,” Jim had said. “I’ll be—right out.”

“Time to go, then?” The words came out harsher than Leonard had meant them to. Jim had explained—had tried to—but, well, how was Leonard really supposed to believe all that stuff about two brothers traveling the world, “saving people and hunting things” as Sam had finally described it, like they had this whole destiny thing planned out for them and they had to just accept their roles in it.

“Yeah. You heard what it said—the end is coming, and it’s—” Jim had licked his lips uncertainly, the way he did when he was telling the truth and he didn’t like it. The way he had when he had explained that first time that it had been great and all and he had to go, and no they couldn’t exchange comms, and oh by the way that thing that tried to kill Leonard that first time was a vampire. Jim Kirk was amazing at dealing with the supernatural but absolute shit when it came to real life. “Bones, it’s going to get ugly, I mean really ugly, and—”

“Just promise me you’ll come through this,” Leonard had said. He knew he sounded desperate, hated it even, but couldn’t help it. He and Jim had spent one night together, years ago; their paths had crossed less than a half dozen times since. It made no sense to feel like this, like if he never saw Jim again things were just going to fly to pieces, but that’s the way he felt about it all the same. “Just—whatever it is, you come back to me, okay?”

“Yeah,” Jim said after a long, slow moment. He stepped into Leonard’s space, put his hands on Leonard’s face, drew him in for a kiss that tasted like goodbye. “When it’s all over, I’ll find you, Bones. Promise. I’ll buy you a drink.” He smiled too brightly, and Leonard knew then that Jim meant to die out there, fighting the end of all things.

“Yeah, kid, you better,” he had choked out, and Jim had patted his cheek fondly and gone out the door to where his brother waited, like that was all there was to it: he kept his back straight, but Leonard was a doctor, he knew what it was like watching a man going to his death like it was no big thing.

Leonard hated it when he was right.

That’s why, two years later, when Jim showed up on his doorstep, incredulous joy was followed by sickening panic—not panic at seeing Kirk again, but the fear that Leonard himself might not be strong enough to end him for good—because the only thing worse than Jim being dead is the idea that some thing is wearing his skin.


“Hey, Bo—agh!” Jim blinks through the face full of Holy Water. “What was that for—augh!” Leonard stares at the now empty can of salt in his hand, which is having no effect either. He doesn’t know enough about demons to know what he’s messing with here, but he’s thanking God that Jo is with her mother tonight. “What’s the matter with you?”

“Get back, demon!” Leonard says with all the force he can muster. He starts reciting the exorcism, the same one they’d used on Christine all those months and months ago. “ Regna terrae, cantate Deo, psallite Domino qui fertis ascendit—

“Okay, look, I’m not possessed, I swear.” Jim looks very tired and more than a bit annoyed. “Here, I’ll prove it.” He moves to pull a knife out of his pocket, and Leonard steps back, chanting louder and more desperately.

—super caelumcaeli ad Orientem Ecce dabit voci suae vocem virtutis, tribuite virtutem Deo!” He finishes the incantation, and nothing happens.

Jim raises his eyebrows. “You done? Look.” He pulls the blade of his knife across the skin of his arm; red blood beads and drips. “One hundred percent human, accept no substitutes.”

“Jim?” Leonard’s mouth is suddenly very dry, and he can’t help but stare at him now, drinking the Hunter in with a hunger he had known existed, but whose depth he had never acknowledged. “It’s really you?”

“Yeah. Really, really.” Jim’s grin is a ghost of his old smirk, but it’s him alright. “How has—” But he doesn’t finish, because Leonard has pulled him into his arms, is kissing him hard, is gripping him tight with astonishing ferocity. He feels his eyes burning with unshed tears, and even though Jim is warm next to him, even though he can feel him warm and reassuring in his embrace, it doesn’t seem real. When he pulls back, Jim looks bemused. “Easy, tiger. I missed you too.”

“I thought you were dead! Pike said—” Leonard breaks off, because he can remember that comm. call like it was yesterday. He swallows thickly, and tries again. “He said the Hell hounds tore you apart.”

Jim frowns. “I—I remember that. It’s fuzzy, but I remember.” He licks his lips. “Sam?”

Leonard shakes his head, and decides to do something useful. He pulls out a pair of shot glasses, his best bottle of Bourbon, and his dermal regenerator. “I haven’t heard anything from him since—well.” He seals the cut on Jim’s arm, leaving a fine line of new, pink skin. He pours their drinks, handing one to Jim with a hand that is not, he is proud to see, visibly shaking. “It’s been two years, Jim. Where the hell have you been?”

“I—don’t know.” The Hunter looks confused as he tilts back his head and takes the shot.

“Dammit, man!” The familiarity of the exasperation that heats Leonard’s gut is at least comforting. “That Bourbon is from 2236, the least you can do is sip it like you appreciate it!”

“I do appreciate it, Bones.” Jim sets his empty glass down on the table, and Leonard refills it. He knows Jim’s not just talking about the booze. “I need to get to Pike, soon. And find—find Sam.”

“Yeah, I know, kid.” Against his own better judgment, Leonard finishes off his own drink quickly, before going to the comm. and pulling up Chris Pike’s number way the hell out in California. He leaves Jim to it; the kid needs his privacy, and Leonard needs to get a fucking grip. So he goes to his study, pacing with his hands cupped close behind his neck, and thinks.

He’s had two years to contemplate this after all. What he should have said to Jim before he left, what he would have said to him if he survived.

It doesn’t need to be this way, he would have said. You don’t have to live this life. The demon that killed your parents is dead. Let someone else fight for a change.

The only problem with that little speech was how he knew it ran against all the best instincts of one Jim Kirk, who never saw a fight against evil he didn’t want in on, who didn’t believe in no-win scenarios and who definitely, definitely, believed with all the power of his heart that it was his duty to save the entire frikkin’ world, every single day.

Let me come. I can help. That one was shorter, but had been a more fond dream in those months when he finally came to accept that Jim really was dead. Leonard was attached to his Atlanta practice, and the concept of leaving life on the road in a ‘car with two brothers, sleeping in a series of cheap hotels and eating synthesized meals out of stations made his gut churn. On top of which, he was far from a fighter: the Hippocratic oath stated “do no harm” rather succinctly. But there were days—more than he liked, honestly—when he thought he preferred to think of himself lying quiet in unmarked earth somewhere with Jim than carrying on without him.

“Stupid,” he mutters to himself in exasperation. “Stupid. Stupid.”

“Hey, Bones.”

He almost leaps out of his skin at Jim’s quiet words. The Hunter is framed in the doorway, leaning against the old wood with that cocky, lackadaisical attitude he exudes.

Jim grins apologetically. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“I—yeah. No problem. Did you get Pike?” Leonard’s stomach is in knots; he doesn’t know whether he hopes Jim did or didn’t.

“Yeah. He wired me some credits. I’ll take a shuttle to Frisco in the morning. I don’t think he really believed I’m me, either.” Jim pauses, then looks him directly in the eyes. “For what it’s worth—I’m sorry, Bones.”

“For?” Leonard is confused.

“Everything?” Jim chuffs a rueful laugh. “Look, a Hunter’s life sucks, and you have all this.” He gestures expansively, taking in not just the big old house but the job at the hospital, the ex-wife and the daughter, the ‘car out front that doesn’t have near as many years or kilometers on it as the old wreck the Kirk boys drive. “I can’t—I won’t ask you to give it up.”

“You owe me a drink,” Leonard answers, nonsensically. Jim blinks, then nods as he remembers their last farewell.

“Yeah, I do.” He picks up their abandoned glasses, then jerks his head in the direction of Leonard’s bedroom, upstairs. “Let me make it up to you?”

The knots in Leonard’s stomach dissolve into molten gold, customary desire running through his veins. He starts to follow Jim up the steps, then pauses; the Hunter turns to look at him when he hears Leonard’s footsteps cease. “It just—it can’t always be like this, Jim. I just—it can’t.”

“I know, Bones. Just—keep the door open for me, yeah?”

Leonard nods, and they go upstairs.


They share another drink, then a shower, then each other.

A bed, and sleep.

In the morning, Leonard drives Jim to the shuttle station, watches him disappear behind the plated glass doors. Over the next six months, they exchange a handful of texts, and then a comm.

“This is it,” Jim says over a wavering connection. Heavy rain is pounding outside the house and lightning flashes bright blue through every window: it’s the kind of storm that would be brutal for summer, but is unheard of in October. “If I were a smarter man, I’d get my ass over to you and make our last hours count.” That too bright grin, as usual. “Unfortunately, all I’ve got is a GED and a bad attitude. I’m going down fighting, Bones. You should know that.”

“Like I’d expect anything different out of you, brat.” Leonard has seen the men on the streets, with their END OF DAYS placards. After everything he’s seen—demons and witches and vampires and zombies—the real Apocalypse seems almost anticlimactic.

“Bones, are you there?” They are losing their connection.

Leonard speaks fast. “Look, Jim, I love—”

“Bones? I can’t hear you! Bones!” The connection goes dead.

“—you,” he finishes lamely to a dark screen. “Dammit.” He sits in the dark, and wonders if there really are angels out there like Jim had said, fighting this last war. He hopes if there are angels and ministers of grace out there, that they are all on Jim and Sam’s side.


He doesn’t go to sleep that night, and paces the house restlessly the next day. The city of Atlanta has declared a State of Emergency, and everyone but specifically first responder personnel have been ordered to stay home and off the streets. All the same, Leonard ventures out across the city to Jocelyn’s place mid-afternoon, because if this is it he wants to be with Jo.

They are playing their fourth round of pinochle when the rain lightens noticeably, and a few hours after that it abruptly stops. Birds sing out hesitantly, then more bravely.

“Look, Dad, a rainbow!” Jo points excitedly out the window. “Do you know what those mean? We learned in Bible school!”

“Tell me, darlin’,” Leonard says, voice unexpectedly thick.

“It’s God’s promise,” Jo says eagerly, with all the authority of her nine years. “After Noah and th’ flood, it was His sign he was never gonna try an’ destroy the world again!”

“You don’t say.” He picks her up and holds her close. “How about that.”

A few hours later, he goes home, but he still can’t sleep. Around midnight, there’s a knock on his door. Somehow, he’s not a bit surprised that it’s Jim Kirk.

The Hunter looks like hell, tired and beat and near tears. “Hey, Bones,” he says. “Is your—your offer—is it still good?”

Leonard knows he should say a lot of things—say he’s glad that they saved the world, should ask where Sam is, should finally say everything he feels for Jim to the man’s face—but he puts all that aside and opens the door wide without hesitation. He gets the feeling that finally, finally, the Hunter has earned his measure of peace. “C’mon in, Jim,” he says. “I’ll get you a glass.”



( 37 comments — Add your .02 )
Page 1 of 2
<<[1] [2] >>
Oct. 30th, 2011 06:05 pm (UTC)

Is it wrong I like this better than Supernatural? Just a wee bit?

*day totally made*
Oct. 31st, 2011 04:18 am (UTC)
LOL!! Proving that EVERYTHING is better with the boys!! ;)
Oct. 30th, 2011 06:23 pm (UTC)
Ohhhhhh I like this :))
Oct. 31st, 2011 04:18 am (UTC)
*G*G* Thanks, bb!!!
Oct. 30th, 2011 06:28 pm (UTC)
LOVE~!! loveloveloveit!! <3
Oct. 31st, 2011 04:18 am (UTC)
*G*G* Thanks, bb!!!
(Deleted comment)
Oct. 31st, 2011 04:19 am (UTC)
<333333333 x Infinity, bb. :)
Oct. 30th, 2011 07:24 pm (UTC)
Great crossover ♥ ♥ ♥

Makes me a really happy camper tonight :)
Oct. 31st, 2011 04:19 am (UTC)
*G*G* Glad you liked it!!!!
Oct. 30th, 2011 08:35 pm (UTC)
Ohhhh. So much love for this. ♥!!!
Oct. 31st, 2011 04:20 am (UTC)
*grins* *SQUISH* I've been too stressed to properly work on your fic, but I'm hoping that'll change this week, bb!
(no subject) - avictoriangirl - Oct. 31st, 2011 03:51 pm (UTC) - Expand
Oct. 30th, 2011 10:25 pm (UTC)
lovely. as always.
Oct. 31st, 2011 04:20 am (UTC)
*G* Thanks, bb!!!
Oct. 30th, 2011 11:13 pm (UTC)
Oct. 31st, 2011 04:21 am (UTC)
LOL, glad you liked it, bb!!!!!! <3
Oct. 31st, 2011 02:09 am (UTC)
Aw, man. I just wanna hug them and feed them soup. Gotta wonder if Jim has his own angel, too. ;P
Oct. 31st, 2011 04:22 am (UTC)
Of course he does! His name is Spock! Who else would call Michael an Assbutt? I mean, really!! *shit-eating grin*
Oct. 31st, 2011 05:15 am (UTC)
I want a billion words of this. UNF! You meshed everything so well!!!! <3
Nov. 5th, 2011 03:37 am (UTC)
*G* Glad you liked it!! <3
Oct. 31st, 2011 09:39 pm (UTC)
Awesome, bb! Great crossover!
Nov. 5th, 2011 03:38 am (UTC)
*G* Thanks, bb!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! <3
Nov. 1st, 2011 03:06 am (UTC)
sighs with ♥ Great crossover!
Nov. 5th, 2011 03:39 am (UTC)
*G* Thanks, bb!!!!!! <3
Nov. 1st, 2011 12:42 pm (UTC)
Absolutely brilliant as, as always.
Nov. 5th, 2011 03:39 am (UTC)
*G* Glad you liked it!!
Nov. 1st, 2011 03:51 pm (UTC)
Jim as a demon hunter. *___________*

I felt bad for Bones though, waiting and hoping. Argh. *sniffles*

FYI, I would love to read a fic where Jim is possessed. :DDDD
Nov. 5th, 2011 03:40 am (UTC)
:O But but but then Sam would have to do painful exorcisms on him! That's horrible!!!!!!
Nov. 1st, 2011 06:32 pm (UTC)
Oh, I adore this crossover. Just lovely.
Nov. 5th, 2011 03:40 am (UTC)
*G* Glad you liked it!!!!
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( 37 comments — Add your .02 )

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