Jul. 26th, 2016

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He feels like a goddamn new man.

True, he's been on the mend for probably weeks now, but the tests that came back today report that his white blood cell count is finally back up to where it's supposed to be and that whatever the hell was wrecking its way through his system might be there, but with a few treatments a month, he's got it under control. McCoy goes for a haircut, buys himself some new clothes and a bottle of champagne, and then he's on his way home to tell Jim the good news.

(And he just thought of the place as home, now he knows he's thinking about sticking it out and staying with Jim)

And Jim. Well, he owes Jim a hell of a lot, which is why he's also got himself a small gift-wrapped box in his hand. All those shifts at the hospital and all that overtime along with his salary means he's got a lot of money in the bank. After all that Jim's been through because of him, the man deserves a nice present. Breathing out the last of his nerves, he knocks as he heads inside the house, butterflies slamming against his ribcage as he announces himself.

"Jim! Jim, I'm home," he calls. "Where are ya?"

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Dr. Leonard McCoy

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