> And I discovered that my castles stand upon pillars of salt and pillars of sand | [Bones | Open]

[hippocraticly]

[The Observation Deck. McCoy never cared much for this vicinity of Shtel Nor that the various pointy-eared bastards on the station took absolute delight in haunting. The doctor enjoyed the Promenade bar personally where he could drink himself into a comfortable stupor after his various tenures in Northern Sickbay

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[thirdhost]

[ fortunately or unfortunately for emony dax, she was completely unaware of the chaotic events that had recently taken place on the station. she'd been too busy basking in the joy that was the gymnastics program she'd been provided with, getting back into shape and re-refining moves and routines she could perform blindfolded and half asleep. she was sore everywhere, it felt like, but it was a good kind of sore; the kind where you knew you ached for reasons that were worth it because you'd worked hard at something and gotten better. it was one of the things she loved most about her sport, her passion.

padding barefoot across the observation deck in a blue, sleeveless leotard and loose, black pants after she exited the turbolift, she made for the hallways to head for her quarters and a relaxing sonic shower -- when she spotted leonard at the railing. grinning to herself, she slipped up quietly behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist, raising herself up on her toes so she could peer over his shoulder at his face. ]Not

[hippocraticly]

[McCoy was unmindful of anyone else being on the deck with him until he feels someone embrace him from behind with a level of... intimacy? Yes. Intimacy. Regardless of this display of affection, he stiffens from the unexpected contact, before his eyes flicker in recognition at the face poking out over his shoulder and baring her teeth at him playfully. Nyo- no. McCoy recognizes the startling blue eyes, and blonde hair and familiar brown spots sprinkled behind those curls. He pursues his lips together before commenting insipidly.]

I believe it would be unwise to contemplate with that level of cogency.

[thirdhost]

[ such a jejune remark was unusual for him and emony found herself squinting at him in a scrutinizing manner as she tried to deduce just what sort of game he was playing at? was this some form of a joke? no. his sense of humor wasn't like that. perhaps he was just in one of his moods. she shrugged it off and sild around to his front side, hands on his shoulders as she raised up on her toes again to press an affectionate kiss to his cheek. ]

Well, that depends on your definitions of "unwise" and "cogency," Leonard.

[hippocraticly]

[McCoy blinks lethargically as she plants that kiss on one side of his face. His brown eyes travel over her features again and he soaks them up. So kind. He searches for gentle words to say to her, but they become lost and he utters in their stead:]

One would assume they are universal; it is rare such simple words could become lost in translation. And how the hell should I know? I'm not a Goddamn dictionary.

[icanhaslogic]

[His reflection against the dark beyond the window wavered, grew hazy- like looking at it through deep, blue water- for a moment- just a moment, then it was back to normal. It remained that way for several seconds before going through the whole routine again. It disconcerted, disoriented… It almost looked like-

-but then it was gone again, only to start it all over.

But it couldn’t have been possible. He wasn’t-

-was he?

But there he stood in the window- only in the window. That was…odd, wasn’t it?]

[hippocraticly]

[It was disconcerting how bewildered he had become after the short outing to Deck 87. Perhaps it was side effects from the energy leak regardless of the combined efforts from the Starfleet Captain and his Science Officer; or perhaps it was telltale signs of posttraumatic stress disorder. He had to remind himself his blood was red, and not green. His name was Leonard McCoy and his field was in medicine. Self-diagnosis was always... illogical.

In any case, McCoy could still feel that firm hold on his arm as the younger Spock from his timeline lay dying in Jim’s arms. Unable to intervene in any way, his feet had been rooted to the spot, as his life ebbed away right in front of his eyes.

... He could see him again now. Staring back at him with that same bland, yet intense stare that had always infuriated him so much. McCoy swallowed that constrict in his throat.]

Make your damn mind if you're a ghost or not.

[icanhaslogic]

[That hint of dry amusement flickered across his face for a brief moment. Ghosts did not exist. They were illogical, instruments used to frighten children. No, he was no ghost.

Apology, then. This was not what he had intended. It was...uncomfortable to say the very least. However, he had had little time to consider other alternatives.]

[hippocraticly]

[McCoy scowls darkly at that waver of emotion from him and looked to the side. This figment of his imagination was beginning to taunt him like he always did with his astounding arrays of logic. Only there was no Jim to intervene. He imagined him drinking himself into a coma somewhere... what use someone would get from willing poisoning himself with alcohol? He would never-

... Uncomfortable. Right. His mind was whirling away at warp factor speed and he could not keep up. Foreign thoughts were layered over some that had become habit by now. Little time. Had that been his fault?]

[in_the_file]

McCoy!

[ Smith grabbed him and whirled him around to look at her. She had been looking for him before she had to escort Chapel to the Observation Lounge. Her face was set hard. She hated having to run around the entire damn station just to find a grown man. ]

What the hell is going on?

[hippocraticly]

[On any other day, McCoy would have a retort waiting in the wings for the cadet. But his movements are lethargic as she forces him around to face her and he blinks slowly. It takes a moment for him to recognize her.]

Cadet Smith.

[in_the_file]

That doesn't answer my question. Why the hell did you just get your ass kicked out of Sickbay?

[hippocraticly]

[Kicked out of Sickbay? Yes, he remembers now. His upper lip curls.]

That logical assumption would be that I upset the Commander that resides there.

[anyother_name]

[ Slowly she came up beside him. There was a sudden deep sadness that filled people on the station. One she couldn't locate. The elder doctor had told her he had sent the younger away. He was sick? She didn't fully understand. And hoped that maybe he could understand her better now, knowing what she was. ]

[hippocraticly]

[McCoy had lowered his head and rubbed furiously at his temples as she slowly approached him. He could not concentrate for the life of him; he was being bombarded by relentless doubt and anxiety. Goddamn it.]

[anyother_name]

[ ...so unnerved and anxious. Her hand rested on his arm. Maybe he just needed some form of sleep? ]

[hippocraticly]

[I don't need to sleep.]

[jimeeena]

[ The announcement Jim had made had shaken Ena up something fierce. Spock was in a coma and they didn't know when he'd wake up. So she's surprised when she walks onto the observation deck and sees Bones. And it's Fifty-Bones, too. That was odd. Shouldn't he be with his patient? And she almost never saw him on the observation deck. ]

Bones.

[hippocraticly]

[McCoy looks over his shoulder at the newest interruption. His eyes flicker in recollection before he greets her in a raspy voice:]

Jim.

[jimeeena]

[ She walks over to him and puts a hand on his arm. She doesn't want to get too touchy feely, even if she gets the feeling that Bones could use a hug right now. ]

Hey... How you holding up?

[hippocraticly]

[McCoy freezes up at the touch, before retorting:]

My legs are perfectly fine.