leftwithmybones | (no subject)

The whole damn city around him is starting to make McCoy feel a little like he took a damn leap into a rabbit hole that he can't exactly explain. He'd been on his way out to get food (and to avoid Jim) and now he's standing with a packet of information in his hands, a key, some money, and a hell of a lot of questions he wants to ask. He'd found his way to the Bramford Building, which is apparently his new house, and all he can think is that he'd put so much wasted damn time building the Farmhouse.

It's not like he got that coming through the rabbit hole with him. It'd have been nice if it had, because Scotty's still would've been a real sweet thing to have right now.

He's been staring up at the apartment building for a while, now. It feels a little like when he first got to San Francisco and had to settle in at the Academy with kids too many years his younger. He feels out of place and stretched thin, but grateful for the roof above his head and the fact he's not kicked out on the streets. So yeah, it could be worse, but it could also be a damn lot better because he's down a house, a job, several friends, and oh yeah, a whole hell of a lot of sense. He ends up settling himself on a bench, not sure he's ready to walk into this new life of his, when he's barely had time to shake off the last.

One hell of a rabbit hole, indeed.

He just sort of wishes he had someone to talk to about it.

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"Nah, this place'll be good for me," he says, already feeling somewhat sure of that. "It's closer to the hospital than the countryside." Maybe he'll want to get back out there at some point, but he feels like he'll spend too much time comparing it to the farmhouse and he could use a little noise, right now, a bit of the city. "It'll make getting off a 48 hour shift better to stumble home," he says wryly.

"And Jim, I could use a dozen of 'em."

"Okay," says Jim, curling a hand around Bones' shoulder to lead him away from the building. "I may be a country boy now, but I still know where all the bars are. I'll buy you a bottle and you can tell me about this island. Three years."

He knows it's possible, for he himself has been in Darrow for two, but it's crazy to think how long. "You look it. You're all tan and cabana boy-y."

McCoy snorts at the comment, raising his brow with disbelief. "Cabana-y, huh?" he echoes, seeing as he doesn't remember that one being on one of his goal lists. "Well, it's not like I could help it. Between building the house and walking to the clinic, I think I got more Vitamin D than I'll ever need in my life," he says, edging on complaint. "Also, one bottle? Since when am I that weak when it comes to drinks, especially if I'm sharing with you."

"Oh my god, you built a house?" Jim laughs, admiration rather than mockery in the sound. "You must have been in heaven, all that earnest, Earthside labor." He slings an arm over Bones' shoulder, where it fits as comfortably as ever. "One bottle each," he promises. "But what was it like, your island? Because I gotta tell you, it's crazy here."

"Took me years, but yeah, I built a house," he says, pride edged with disappointment to have lost it. All those years and all that effort and now it's gone. He could definitely use a few drinks to make up for it and it's easy to fit into Jim's space like this. "Trust me, it was crazy as hell," he assures Jim with a snort. "Things you wouldn't believe. Hell, you barely believed them, there."

Sure did get righteously pissed about them, though.