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leftwithmybones

(Untitled)

Feb 24, 2011 23:58

McCoy is thinking that maybe he didn't make such a great decision telling Rogue that she could stay with him. First had been the attack. And hell if that wasn't bad enough. McCoy's been drinking pretty heavily since Jim left, so when he wakes up in the middle of the night drunk and being attacked by Rogue, he's thinking that he's made a bad call ( Read more... )

Comments 21

un_gloved February 25 2011, 06:07:37 UTC

It had been fairly mortifying, waking up groggy to a somewhat bruised Leonard McCoy, only to find out that she had apparently beaten him up when he had attempted to prevent her from leaving his place on her own. She still wasn't sure whose personality had been behind the wheel, but she'd apologized profusely on behalf of everyone involved, even if she hadn't been.

It had made falling asleep even more difficult. She finally had, curled up on her side, and it was from this position that she came to very sharply, very alertly, and utterly silently. Or someone did.

She padded to the doorway between the rooms, moving her hand back and forth through her hair doing nothing so much as tousling it more. She stopped and leaned against the wall, fixing him with what looked lip a sleepy expression.

"You can't sleep either?"

leftwithmybones February 26 2011, 00:33:32 UTC

McCoy's grip tightens on the hypospray, but a cursory analysis tells him that it's Rogue. He settles his hand and pushes his grip off, shifting with the blankets. "Booze doesn't really help you so much," he admits, his voice hoarse. He's still working off the couple of whiskey he'd drank earlier on his own. "You still having troubles?"

un_gloved February 26 2011, 05:13:30 UTC

"No more'n usual. What exactly are you trying to chase away with all that drink, sugar?" she asked, walking across the room to sit on the corner of the bed, leaving healthy distance between them.

leftwithmybones February 27 2011, 00:42:40 UTC

McCoy just shrugs at that, sitting up and letting the blankets fall around his waist. "Jim's gone," is what he says, voice rough. "My goddamn best friend is gone after my roommate, after Scotty, and Chekov and all the rest. Don't know where to turn these days, but drink's always been good to me."

Thread 21