Leonard McCoy (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
oldfashionedfutureboy) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
heyfreemagic2015-08-12 12:20 am
oldfashionedfutureboy) wrote in heyfreemagic2015-08-12 12:20 am
[ OPEN ]
[ All he wanted to do was duck out to grab something for dinner. Cook a proper meal for some people and try to settle himself into some shade of normalcy- he doesn't remember what went wrong. Just that something did. That one moment he was on the sidewalk and the other he'd ducked down the stairs to avoid rain or something and then-
Time's lost. It'd been dark. There'd been voices. There'd been- things. Nox. He's covered in something viscous and he's not all that certain as to what it might actually be- part of him thinks he should grab a sample. The rest just wants a bath. A drink, a bath, and a long time spent in bed. He's not visibly roughed up other than looking mighty sorry and ragged as he makes his way, finally, back into the light.
Semiopaque- something, coats him head to toe. Sticks his scrubs to him, mats his hair to his skull, squelches with each step.
There's not a scent- not a taste. Not even all that much of a color but it's like grease and despair and he just- he wants it off. ]
Time's lost. It'd been dark. There'd been voices. There'd been- things. Nox. He's covered in something viscous and he's not all that certain as to what it might actually be- part of him thinks he should grab a sample. The rest just wants a bath. A drink, a bath, and a long time spent in bed. He's not visibly roughed up other than looking mighty sorry and ragged as he makes his way, finally, back into the light.
Semiopaque- something, coats him head to toe. Sticks his scrubs to him, mats his hair to his skull, squelches with each step.
There's not a scent- not a taste. Not even all that much of a color but it's like grease and despair and he just- he wants it off. ]
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[Until Bones knocks on the door. Wash pauses for a moment - yep, he's really out of it.]
...we live here.
[And then Casey opens the door. Well, this just got a whole lot more complicated. He ushers Bones inside.]
Later, Casey. Bones, go take a shower. I'll leave clothes outside the bathroom for you.
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[ At least he can remember that well enough, ignoring the comment about living here- he's on autopilot. Though if he really was he might've just stood in front of the door and waited for it to open it's own damn self like it SHOULD. Jesus. Shuffling in and the squelch in his shoes hasn't gotten any better during the walk. ]
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Huh? Whazappenin... [A few clueless blinks at the mass of slime trudging through the room]
...Leonard? Where've you--oh. Oh jeez. Are you--towels. I'll get you towels.
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You're not hurt, are you dude? 'Cause to be honest I don't wanna touch that stuff.
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[He looks at Bones, and the Authoritative Voice softens a little.] I'll bag your clothes or something. Just go get in the shower.
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[ Shower. Shower, shower, oh god shower. He shuffles the rest of the way to the bathroom, locks the door behind him, strips down with some muffled swearing for how the damn fabric and slime seems to adhere to him, shoves the lot in the sink and turns the water on scalding hot.
All the scrubbing in the world didn't quite clear him from the feeling of this sludge. It was in his ears, under his nails, in his NOSE and hair and every time he thinks he's clean he finds more and it's worse than the goddamn pollen from that one planet that made everyone high as kites- but he manages to get himself cleaned off. Eventually.
A change of clothes helps him feel a little more human. ]
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Hey, Casey, help me out in the kitchen, wouldja? I need a flipmaster.
[When all else fails, food. They might only have frozen waffles, cream cheese, and bacon in the fridge, but heck if Greg's going to make sure there's a pile hot and ready when needed.]
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[Can't argue with Wash when he uses that voice, not like Casey would want to anyway. He dutifully follows Greg to the kitchen, setting the first aid kit in plain sight. Just in case.
Casey's eye doesn't leave the bathroom door for very long. He lets out a slow whistle, like one might do for a trainwreck. He's not sure what to say that can encapsulate the situation. Eventually he settles on the shake of the head and a low mutter of]
Dude.
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[It's not until after he manages to get all the slime off, dries his hands with a paper towel, and throws it into the trash like it insulted his mother that Wash takes stock of what's happening in the kitchen. First aid kit's on the table - probably from Casey. Good instinct there. Bacon smells amazing. Greg and Casey are intact. Bones is back - looks like he never actually left. And Wash...Wash wants to go collapse on the couch and not get up until sometime next week, but this isn't about his problems. This is about getting Bones stable, getting things in the apartment worked out, and his exhaustion can take a backseat until that's accomplished.]
[He raises a hand to his face and rubs tiredly at his eyes.]
Remind me never to go in the sewers.
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He heads straight for the bag he'd brought with him, his med kit and tricorder included before walking to the sofa and settling down. First thing's first. Scanning himself. Only when he's satisfied that he's not infected and that the bruises are just bruises and not some sort of creeping sickness does the smell of food really start to sink in. Food. Saftey. An exhausted Wash (does the kid EVER sleep?), Casey, and Greg making noise in the kitchen.
Normalcy.
It might be safe to freak out a little but- food first. ]
Never go in the sewers. Or the subway system. Should post some kinda warn'n up on the network about that...How long was I miss'n, approximately? On my end everything kinda...blended together.
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For now, priorities stand at making him feel safe. Greg pushes a first plate of food over at Leonard.]
Almost a month. We've been looking all over.
[He'd checked the tower more than a couple times, just in case.]
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Doesn't seem to be the case here. Good to know, but Bones looks like complete crap. Sewers have openings everywhere, how'd he possibly get lost? Something HUGE, no doubt.]
Yeah, I kinda thought you'd found a way out of the city. What the heck kept you trapped down there?
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[And now Bones had spent a whole month in there.]
[Wash puts the first aid kit back in the closet, if only to have something to do, keeping tabs on the conversation all the while. He wanted to hear Bones' answer to that one.]
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[ It hadn't felt near that long to him- hell he hadn't had the time to stop or eat or sleep or drink much of anything. He knew it was more than a few hours, maybe a few days but-
Weeks. He'd lost WEEKS down there and he can't remember all of it.
The tentative hold he had on his composure cracked, fingers trembling as he tries to reconcile that length of time against the snatches of what he could recall of being below the city. The food helps. Gives him something to do with his hands, something to eat now that he realizes he's ravenously hungry. ]
I- I'd ducked into the stairwell to the sewers to avoid some rain while out shopp'n and figured I could just catch a train to the next station but- didn't occur to me that the Nox would have the whole damn place locked down. Got turned around so often I couldn't-
I don't remember most of it. Just- voices. Shadows and voices.
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Looking at Leonard shaking, Greg can only think of one bright side.]
I'm glad you made it back to us.
[It feels a little redundant to say, but it practically seems like a miracle.]
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Even the shadows that AREN'T evil are dangerous down there.]
Yeah...you OK?
[The guy's super shaken. It's scary. It almost reminds him of when the turtles nearly lost Leonardo: Maybe he'll stop trembling soon, and he may or may not be afraid of going near the sewers after this, but it's gonna be awhile before he really DOES find his was back from this.]
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Hey.
[He heads over to stand behind the couch and lays a hand on Bones' shoulder.]
It's over. You're safe here.
[He's seen that expression in the mirror enough times to have some idea of what to do. In his experience, stability helps.]
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He doesn't remember sleeping. He sure as shit didn't have anything to drink. But he's- not FINE fine he's hungry as hell but he's not dead. Why isn't he dead? Is he okay? It wasn't a vaccum but it was-
No light It was dark. It was like staring into that goddamn black hole, like staring down that bomb, like staring into a body bag. Everything he'd ever been terrified of and he had to get back up top so he'd shoved through. Compartmentalized.
Now it's harder. Now it's SAFE and his hands are still shaking but there's work but- there isn't work. There aren't lives he's bound to mind. Just these three. Just Greg's concern, Casey's question, and Wash's hand. He's locked up tight under it for a second. For three and he forces himself to relax. It's safe here. He's back. Wash is right. ]
...I just got over my aviophobia two years ago. [ He mutters, scrubbing at his face, a wry crackle of a laugh spills out and while it's a fragile, shaky thing- he smiles. ] I did not need a new one to replace it. Christ. Y'all know what kept go'n through my head the whole time? "We got a bottle of ketchup and a loaf of bred and that dang kid is gonna eat that or bug Greg to order pizza and that'll drive Wash bugnuts so I need to get my ass home."