Dr. Leonard McCoy (
leftwithmybones) wrote2012-09-17 07:49 pm
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When he wakes up, he hears two things that make him distinctly terrified for both his life and his sanity. See, thing is, on the island, he wakes up with Jim clinging to him like a lamprey and that's about normal, that's fine. He gets used to the cat in his face yelping for food. What he's not used to is his Mama's voice shouting from downstairs that breakfast is on and if he doesn't move his ass, then Jo's gonna eat all of it.
So, you know, what in hell has he been drinking? He starts awake, hair a righteous and holy mess and he stares around him -- no grogginess left, not today. There's a dozen recognizable things around him and his eyes flit between them -- his Vitruvian man poster, the skeletal poster, his favorite sports teams and the merchandise, and the assorted antiques that litter the room. He breathes out and flops back on the bed, but it's not mattress he hits.
It's Jim.
"Fuck, ow," he hisses, then stares at the door in the event his mother (or Jo, how is Jo here, it must be break, the one time he ever got her and his grandparents left no mystery as to where she'd be spending it). He bolts for the door, clad in nothing but his tight black boxer-briefs and locks it firmly, reaching over to flick Jim in the leg. "Get up," he orders. "Now."
So, you know, what in hell has he been drinking? He starts awake, hair a righteous and holy mess and he stares around him -- no grogginess left, not today. There's a dozen recognizable things around him and his eyes flit between them -- his Vitruvian man poster, the skeletal poster, his favorite sports teams and the merchandise, and the assorted antiques that litter the room. He breathes out and flops back on the bed, but it's not mattress he hits.
It's Jim.
"Fuck, ow," he hisses, then stares at the door in the event his mother (or Jo, how is Jo here, it must be break, the one time he ever got her and his grandparents left no mystery as to where she'd be spending it). He bolts for the door, clad in nothing but his tight black boxer-briefs and locks it firmly, reaching over to flick Jim in the leg. "Get up," he orders. "Now."

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"Hey," he murmurs. "Talk to me. You okay with all of this?" he asks as he holds open the porch door, letting Jo burst outside at a dash.
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"Who the hell's been talking like that to you?" McCoy asks, semi-horrified. "Is this Clay?"
"It's just kids at school, Daddy," Joanna replies, rolling her eyes as if it ought to be common knowledge.
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"The Hippo oath," Jo agrees dutifully.
"Yeah. Close enough," McCoy agrees with a fond smile on his face, leaning in to press a hard kiss to Jo's nose when she gets close enough. "I love you kiddo, you know that, right? No matter what."
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It's perfect and it doesn't exist. As much as that pains him, it's wonderful in the same vein and he hates the fact that he wants to laugh and cry at around about the same time right now. "She's my daughter," he says, getting the words out. "She's a good girl," he murmurs, meaning it wholeheartedly. "Listen, Jim, go wait upstairs for me, will you?"
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"And how long will Jim need?" his mother asks curiously.
McCoy's fairly sure the shade of tomato red he's gone hasn't yet been recorded. "Just be back for dinner," he grumbles, heading upstairs and only feeling secure when he hears the lock click.
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Crossing the room, he wraps his arms around Bones from behind. "I'm scared for when it's over," he admits. "Feels like all this will hurt you as much as it helps."
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