leftwithmybones | (no subject)

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Today's been a hell of a rough day.

Normally, he can get through his shift at the hospital with ease. Starfleet is hesitant to shove its cadets into situations they can't handle and thanks to paperwork and seniority issues, no one will let McCoy do the work he knows he can. So he's a glorified intern, instead, consulting and doing only half the work he ought to be. Today, though, he'd been working in the clinic when a married couple had come in, bright and beaming and barely off their honeymoon. It had been a kick in the ass; one that reminded him of Jocelyn in more ways than he liked.

That's why he ends up at the most popular dive-bar, knowing that it'll be crowded, but that it also has the best alcohol and the fairest prices, making it a popular campus choice. What he doesn't expect (though he should), is to walk into the bar and discover there's already an event going on, by the looks of it. More than that, looks like he knows the instigator.

Ignoring that mess, he heads up and holds up his fingers to order a drink. "Just bring the bottle," he amends his order, after a second.

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Jim doesn't intend to get in these situations. They just end up in his lap, literally, which is how he ended up with a pair of beautiful blue-skinned women on his knees and how their not so pleased brother is currently pounding his face in. He staggers over to the bar to find a weapon to use when he slams into someone drinking there.

"Sorry," he slurs around alcohol and a mouth full of blood and then he realizes it's Bones. "Hey! Vouch for me? I was just playing."

He's too goddamn tired for this. McCoy groans and gives Jim a look heavily tinged with disbelief and irritation, sighing as he glances back to the guys he's been fighting off. "Apologies for this idiot," he says. "He's got problems and I should know. I'm his doctor."

"I didn't know their brother was here," Jim slurs, reaching for Bones' drink to take a swig of it. He has no idea where his own drink is by this point and it's probably spilled somewhere. The brother in question shrugs and leaves with several of his friends and, most disappointingly, his sisters.

"Who comes to the Academy with family in tow?"

McCoy lets out a protest that dies off when he turns to the bartender to order a second with the resigned look of a man who's had this happen to him more times than he really wants to count. "People who've got family and were raised with the same idiotic belief system," he mutters, protecting this new drink with a little more caution given that he'd come here for a firm purpose and coping with Jim's idiotic antics isn't part of it.

He shuffles over to the furthest booth from all the noise, still annoyed that he has to put up with any of this. "I feel so damn old," he swears. "What the hell was the fight about?"

"Well, I think I went too far with his sisters and didn't offer to marry them," Jim says, shrugging one shoulder. "I didn't follow it after the first couple punches. After a little while, I think we were fighting just to fight."

It isn't the first time this has happened and it certainly won't be the last. Jim hardly ever pays attention in diplomacy classes. He imagines he's going to have a communications officer to handle that tedium for him once he gets on the deck of a ship.

"Marrying people after one night, huh?" McCoy jokes, brows raised high. "Look, I know I'm your best friend and all, but if you ask me to witness a wedding for someone you just met, I'm gonna punch you out and say you had a seizure," he warns, sipping from his replacement glass.

"I've got this crazy idea," he deadpans. "Ever consider not fighting? You know, maybe passive resistance?"

"In my defense, he was trying to kill me since I be...bespoke? Besmirched!" Jim says triumphantly, glad to have found the right word. "Besmirched the honor of his sisters. Because I'm not into marrying on a first date."

Or hookup, as it were. Jim is starting to clear up and as his head clears, it's pounding. Ugh.

"So I had to fight or I would have messed up this pretty face," he says, gesturing toward his bloody nose.

"Pretty sure fighting was gonna mess up your pretty face plenty, Jim," McCoy points out. "And maybe next time, you don't flirt with girls who look like they've got bodyguards lingering around 'em," he adds, massaging at the bridge of his nose.

Hell, this is only making his headache worse. "Do I need to give you a scan?"

"Aren't you too drunk for that?" Jim says, peering at him carefully. He's pleasantly drunk but Bones looks like he's had a few too and he doesn't look nearly as happy about it as Jim is.

"We're in a bar. You should have fun. How can you be grouchy when we have free-flowing alcohol and beautiful, blue-skinned women?"

"Bars are for drinking, not for getting laid and getting into barfights," he argues, and especially for someone like himself, who frequently borders on that of alcoholism, bars mean he has someplace to go and forget the world. "I had a shit day at the hospital, okay? So I'm not here for any good time, I just came here to drink and it's sheer coincidence that you're here acting like an idiot."

Jim pauses for a moment and (he thinks) pitches his voice low. "You wanna talk about it? Because being a sad sack in public is never a good idea, Bones."

Jim tries to do that kind of thing behind closed doors. He has moments when he feels down on himself but they are, luckily, few and far between.

McCoy gives Jim the same sharp raise of his brow that so often comes with Jim asking if he wants to talk about it. "What is there to say? It's the same damn verses in the oldest song, but it ain't changing, so there's nothing to do but drink," he says, and given that he drinks everytime he's reminded of Jocelyn, it happens a whole hell of a lot.

Jim arches a brow and then winces because damn. That guy hit harder than he thought. "Oh, c'mon. There's plenty of girls here, Bones. Some of them are even single and don't have brothers that will beat you to a pulp. I'm sure someone will take pity on you."

For the good of the entire world, really.

"Yeah, because that's what all men want. Someone to take pity on them," he replies wryly, giving Jim a look that says if he hadn't just been beaten to a pulp, he might have thought once or twice about smacking him. "Look, I know you don't have anything to compare it to, but getting divorced really sucks and you don't just jump right back into the fishing pond."

"You do have to eventually fish again, though," Jim says. "And how long has it been? Too long. You've been moping about this since I met you." Jim is of the opinion that holding onto hurts like that is not the way to live. Feel it, live it, move on from it with some other woman.

"And it's about time you at least tried to talk to someone."

"Jim, I got divorced," he says again, putting heavy emphasis on the topic at hand. "It's not something you get over real quickly and besides, it's not like I'm ready for another woman. I got trust issues, funny enough," he says wryly, drinking a little heavier because he doesn't know why they're still talking about it.

"When I'm ready, I'll go out and find me a rebound with someone, guy or girl, but I'm not ready yet."

"Suit yourself," he says, shrugging a little. It's not as comfortable and easy a gesture as he would prefer but he's fairly certain some of his bones and tendons have been (at least temporarily) rearranged.

"I just think if it was me, I'd be trying to get past it with someone new. Something new."

"I know exactly what you'd do, Jim, I'm your roommate," he replies, rubbing his eyes as he stares at Jim and knows that even though he hadn't meant to stumble onto a distraction, he's got one in spades, now. "Come on, let's get out of here and I'll treat your injuries so you don't miss classes tomorrow."

"Wouldn't want my grades to suffer," Jim says dryly. Honestly, he has incredible marks in all his courses but that's because there is nothing he wants more than to be a captain in Starfleet someday and people with less than stellar grades aren't exactly getting pushed into senior officer positions. It means something to him, it means everything to him, so he isn't screwing around.

"You think you can fix...all of it?"

He takes a critical look at Jim's face, then his body, and internally grimaces. It's all not so bad, but it's probably going to take a hell of a lot longer than he'd planned on working tonight. Still, Jim's pretty much the only person in the last year who's really stuck by him. "Yeah, kid, I can fix it all," he promises. "But you're gonna owe me a bottle of something."

"I don't think either of us need a bottle of anything right now," Jim says reluctantly. It takes a lot to admit that, to be sure, but he's finally reached his limit for once. It's probably wise to quit while he's ahead.

"Let's get it done and pass out, yeah?"

"Don't be ridiculous, I could always use a bottle," he says, but he grumbles as he reaches for a few credits to settle his tab, dropping them on the table as he finishes his drink, figuring he'll still be steady enough to patch Jim up, at this point. Gesturing for Jim to move, too, he points towards the door. "Back at the dorm?"

"Yeah, I don't want the ladies to see me crying like a baby." Jim isn't exactly the best patient which is unfortunate because he is, quite often, a patient of McCoy's. He thinks McCoy takes some real pleasure in inflicting regular pain on him.

"Better we do it in private like usual."

"I've never known anyone so whimpery around medicine," McCoy says, shaking his head as if continuously stunned that Jim can be such a wuss when it comes to getting patched up. He hauls himself up, making sure they're all good and settled, and that Jim doesn't start a fight on their way out.

He feels worn, but he's glad they're heading home. "Next year, I'm applying for off residence apartments," he threatens. "Right next to a bar so I never have to walk more than a few steps."

"And I'm moving in with you," Jim says, laughing softly. "Because that's really convenient for me to have my doctor and the bar within walking distance of one another. I think it'll cut down on alcohol related injuries in my life."

He also thinks it will contribute greatly to getting Bones out there so he isn't moping anymore.