Night 48: M41-50 Hallway
He didn't remember falling asleep exactly, only that he was suddenly starting awake when the Head Doctor's voice crackled on. For a second, McCoy couldn't remember where he was. The sheets felt rougher than he remembered, the layout too small for a starship, the bed itself unfamiliar. Even though he'd been around the cramped room the past few days, the dim room seemed alien in those waking moments.
The doctor didn't sit up immediately. Last thing he remembered was nursing a growing headache. McCoy regarded himself suspiciously as he woke up bit by bit. He couldn't feel any splitting pain now, which was well and fine, but you never knew for certain. A good part of him was reluctant to roll over or move, and actually find out whether it was slept off or just lying there waiting. McCoy lay there a little longer, listening to the intercom.
For that brief moment earlier, it'd really felt like he was back lying on the bed in his quarters, back on the Enterprise, only there'd been something peculiar about it. Like it wasn't his quarters and that bed had been elsewhere, in a room that was bigger than his and hotter than he was used to. It definitely wasn't his room: mugginess was one thing, he'd grown up with it before, but having the air hotter than Death Valley wasn't his idea for healthy living. Despite knowing those were off, there was a sense of right about it all the same.
The doctor looked around blearily for a clock only to remember that there wasn't any such luxury here. He couldn't have missed the rendezvous already. The Head Doctor sounded like he was giving one of his first announcements for the night. Lying here a little while longer was pretty tempting, but he had his orders. McCoy sat up slowly. To his relief, that headache looked like it had burned itself out for the most part. He really had just needed some sleep.
He quickly changed out of the gray number into his own uniform. He could still feel that headache lurking about on the fringes, but it was manageable. Adjusting the medical tunic, McCoy stepped out.
The doctor didn't sit up immediately. Last thing he remembered was nursing a growing headache. McCoy regarded himself suspiciously as he woke up bit by bit. He couldn't feel any splitting pain now, which was well and fine, but you never knew for certain. A good part of him was reluctant to roll over or move, and actually find out whether it was slept off or just lying there waiting. McCoy lay there a little longer, listening to the intercom.
For that brief moment earlier, it'd really felt like he was back lying on the bed in his quarters, back on the Enterprise, only there'd been something peculiar about it. Like it wasn't his quarters and that bed had been elsewhere, in a room that was bigger than his and hotter than he was used to. It definitely wasn't his room: mugginess was one thing, he'd grown up with it before, but having the air hotter than Death Valley wasn't his idea for healthy living. Despite knowing those were off, there was a sense of right about it all the same.
The doctor looked around blearily for a clock only to remember that there wasn't any such luxury here. He couldn't have missed the rendezvous already. The Head Doctor sounded like he was giving one of his first announcements for the night. Lying here a little while longer was pretty tempting, but he had his orders. McCoy sat up slowly. To his relief, that headache looked like it had burned itself out for the most part. He really had just needed some sleep.
He quickly changed out of the gray number into his own uniform. He could still feel that headache lurking about on the fringes, but it was manageable. Adjusting the medical tunic, McCoy stepped out.