Hesistant Strides (Decisive Uncertainty) [Open]
The sand crunched under John's boots, tiny grains working their way up and into the leather and steel crannies. He scowled at the ground as he ran. Sand was damn hard to run on
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Heavy footfalls ringing down long, dark halls. A shadow darker than night oozing past the corner of the furthest turn. Vibrations buzzing up through the concrete and iron floor, giving his knees another reason to shake.
A blood-chilling sound cleaving the air like a diamond-sharp tuning fork. Nails on a chalkboard. Claws on metal. The fetid stink of death and rot and fear, the exponential growth of disgust until he's gagging with each breath.
It feels like a million years and it feels like no time at all until the creaturemanfriendenemy finally rounds the corner.
John shot up, scrabbling to his feet like a crazy man, grabbing handfuls of sand and stone and air. He gulped in air, a fish out of water, grasping for something to fill him that was just out of reach.
After a couple of minutes, after swiping the cold sweat from his skin and scrubbing his knuckles across his eyes, John took a deep breath and looked around. Thankfully he was alone, no one to see his shame.
Or... maybe not. There, about three quarters of a mile away, a figure was perched on a low rock. After climbing on top of the large rock he'd been sleeping beside, making sure to stay low on the red stone, John stared out at it.
A girl. Just a girl. A hot, tired, and dehydrated, from the looks of it, girl.
Pushing himself up so he stood upright on the rock, John waved his hands back and forth. If she needed help then all she needed to do was call.
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Pasha frowned, squinting towards the man on top of the rock. He bore a striking resemblance to the Enterprise's CMO. She brought a hand up to shade her eyes in order to peer at him better. What was rockhead McCoy playing at now? Standing up she dusted off the back of her shorts and reattached her water canteen to her belt before heading in his direction. About a mile, most likely less, she made it.
The fact that he was out here alone warranted questioning. The fact that he was also shirtless warranted questions.
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When he got closer to her, he could see that she looked a bit confused.
"Hey, Miss. You okay?" he called, cupping his hands around his mouth.
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"McCoy, vhat are you doing out here?" She called back, frowning as she moved quicker to close the distance between them. If there was something seriously wrong with the Doctor then she could always call somebody, Kirk perhaps?, on her communicator to help get him to a hospital.
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"Oh boy," John muttered to himself, rolling his eyes. Another one, after all this time? One would think that Captain Kid would've sent out an intergalactic space-memo or something.
Drawing up alongside the young woman, John paused, frowning.
"You must work on the Enterprise, thinking I'm Leonard and all. Nah. Close but no cigar. We look an awful lot alike but that's about where the similarities end."He cocked an eyebrow, quirking a corner of his lip. "But you already knew that, seeing as you're...." He smiled, gesturing for her to fill in the blank.
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"Your name?"
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