dated to June 30th - late hours

[leftwithmybones]

To say that McCoy is beyond exhausted is an understatement. He'd managed to grab about two hours of sleep in the clinic, refusing to leave because Bucky's condition still hadn't improved to the point that he felt comfortable going anywhere. He's got one surgery on his hands and he'd cleaned up one hell of a mess from the couple of trials he had to go through to get to the right one. By the time mid-afternoon rolls around and the patient's sedated, he wants nothing more than to trudge back home and collapse, preferably for a year.

He makes it back home, ignoring the demanding yowls of Plum and only almost hitting him in the head with a shoe. Almost. It's not like he's a bad owner for almost. Shoes off, the shirt's next and he throws it over the couch, barrelling through his door using the weight of his shoulder.

The bed looms in sight like a gorgeous oasis and three steps later, McCoy's completely sacked out on it, facedown in a pillow and already half-snuffling through exhaustion.

Six hours. That's all he needs. Six hours and he'll get right back to it.

Comments

[leftwithmybones]

He flinches slightly, the brush of Jim's lips tickling against his stomach. He smiles down at Jim, threading his fingers through all that golden hair at his disposal. "I'll wear one in each pocket," he promises, kissing Jim's temple slowly. "Plus, we hooked up some electrodes to help with the surgery. I can amp them up, overload them if things get too risky."

[chasedthestars]

"If you have a free hand when you get grabbed," Jim murmurs, "It only takes fifteen pounds per - " But he stops, for if anyone knows how many pounds of pressure it takes to snap a human neck, it's the doctor beneath him.

Jim sighs, turning his head until his cheek rests over Bones' heart. "Don't kick Rogers out. I don't care how much he yells, you need some serious muscle in that room."

[leftwithmybones]

"Already kicked him out of the room," he mumbles, exhausted, exhausted beyond the telling of it. "He wanted to untie Bucky, wanted to let him loose because he was a friend, but we couldn't do it, not when he was a danger to the rest of us." He closes his eyes and wraps an arm around Jim's body as they twist and turn, getting more comfortable. "Emotions make us into idiots, Jim."

[chasedthestars]

Jim groans, wishing to god Bones would stop saying things that make him want to throw up. "Then get some muscle that's not acting like an idiot," he says, lifting his head.

[leftwithmybones]

"How about you shut up and let me worry about this," he retorts, letting his head fall back against the pillows, breathing out slowly and watching the way Jim's head descends with the exhalation. "There's a goddamn man of iron standing guard. I'm going to be okay."

[chasedthestars]

"You're going to be okay," Jim repeats, but he doesn't sound very sure, arms pulling Bones closer and legs tangling. "How long this time before you come out again?"

[leftwithmybones]

"I'm going back to monitor, not perform any other kind of medical procedure unless there's a sudden emergency," he says, breathing out slowly and evenly as the proximity to Jim starts to calm his heartrate right down. "Why, you planning on waiting up or something?"

[chasedthestars]

"Up?" Jim snorts. He feels like crawling right out of his skin, is so far from sleep he can't imagine ever finding it again. But he wants Bones to rest, so Jim lies still. "Try right outside the door."

[leftwithmybones]

That gets a bemused sound from McCoy, but he's too exhausted to do much more than lie completely still, his breathing turning heavy now that Jim's nearby and isn't staring at him like he wants to try and light his skin on fire from looks alone. By the time his mind begins to process the day, he's fast falling to sleep, a soft breath on his lips before he settles with them pressed to Jim's fine hairs, snoring through the hours and left to Jim's mercy to wake him up.