PART ONE PART TWO
PART THREE PART FOUR HERE PART FIVE HERE PART SIX HERE PART SEVEN HERE PART EIGHT HERE PART NINE HERE PART ELEVEN HERE Discussion post NEW RULE:
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Jim stays quiet because Jim who is normally Jim wouldn't. It's opposite day. Week. Something.
Bones groans and sits up in bed, rubbing his forehead. His hair is sticking up in the back, and as he climbs out of bed, Jim sees that he is wearing SpaceBrats boxers. There is a joke here somewhere. He smiles faintly.
Bones's eyes are suddenly wide and fixed on his face. "Fuck, kid. What'sa matter with you?"
Jim can hear the prompter inside his head: "Aw, c'mon Bones, keep up! This is our routine. I wake you up at fuck o'clock; you entertain me. Where're you hiding the good booze this week?"
When he ignores it, there's a sense of whatthefuckareyoudoing waiting in the wings, jumping up and down pointing at the prompter's words. Say them, it mouths frantically.
What the fuck is he doing ( ... )
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This was just so good, and Bones <3.
I love it.
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Also the choice at the end. <3 I'm glad he made the Bones choice.
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That night he can't sleep. He feels oily and itchy in his skin, like he hasn't showered in days when in reality (reality) he's taken three discrete showers today, only one of them sonic.
His head is too quiet. His head is too loud. He has stepped out his body. He needs to get out of his body.
He has tunnel vision. He needs to remember that he has (list them) Bones, Spock, Uhura, his mom, Chekov, Sulu, Scotty, Pike, Gaila. People who care (they do, they do).
He can see too much. His life is mercury spilled on a porous surface; redredred, impossible to (re)capture, poisonous. He doesn't want it.
Yes, he does. (Doesn't he?)
That bit was the most beautiful because it feels so real.
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I'm hoping against hope you'll come out and post your name so I can find more of your writing. Pretty please?
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