[open] The Story Without Me

[rightawaydoctor]

WHO Christine and OPEN to CGM residents
WHAT Christine finally sees her window.
WHERE The CGM kitchen, though if you'd like another location within the mansion, just put it in your subject line and Chris will come there!
WHEN Tuesday the 21st

Comments

[doctornota]

Walking inebriated was kind of an ordeal for McCoy. His fine muscle control seemed to just give up completely, making even stumbling to the bathroom an adventure. As a result, getting down to the kitchen was just on this side of impossible, but McCoy didn't give up easily. (A minor help was that he'd been drinking slightly less since the 'holo' had been closed, but the memories still ached, and the alcohol still numbed them.)

Tonight, on a search for ice, he fumbled in and paused in the doorway, leaning heavily on it and peering blearily at the crumpled up figure of his head nurse. It sounded like she was crying, and that immediately set his sodden nerves on red alert.

"Christine?" It came out closer to 'Chrissine' with the slur and the drawl, but was still recognizably her name. "What's wrong?"

[doctornota]

Normally, Leonard would have laughed at a request like that, and told the asker that if they wanted to hear nice things, they were in the wrong damn place. But he understood that deep feeling of worthlessness, that realization of how much better things could be without you, the validations of what the demons in the darkest corners of your brain whispered to you.

"Told you already," he said simply. "Best goddamned head nurse in the fleet. Wouldn't have asked for you otherwise."

[rightawaydoctor]

"I know you told me already," she said, pausing to take another drink. "Just wanted to hear it again." Her shoulders sagged and she let out a great sigh. "It's just... the worst thing is, what I saw, it wasn't even like you were replacing me. You never knew me so you never knew what you were missing. My parents never had me either. And they were so happy..."

Trailing off as she felt pressure behind her eyes that signaled tears to come, she quickly put the bottle back to her lips to shut herself up. Things had started to feel better but she had gone and ruined it again. Did she ruin everything? No, that was the window talking. Or was it? No, that was a voice inside her talking. When had she lost all her confidence? Had the window done it all, or was that voice always inside her, buried deep and waiting for a vulnerable moment?

[doctornota]

"I know how you feel." He remembered the ache of seeing Christine with Dr. Puri, looking so much happier than she ever had with him, how much more efficiently the nurses and other doctors ran with a CMO they liked. Reaching out, he grabbed the bottle back from her and took a swig before handing it back, not wanting to let those annoying little feelings get in the way again. That was why he drank, after all; to keep them from getting too loud. "And it's bullshit. It was bullshit when Jim saw it an' it's bullshit for you. Just a load of lies aimed right at your goddamn heart."

[rightawaydoctor]

Christine let out a noise of protest when he grabbed the bottle, surprised at the quick reflexes he had for someone so drunk. But at least he handed it back, and she rolled the bottle between her hands before taking a large gulp.

"So Jim's seen it too? And what about you? Have you seen your own version of this crap?" If he had, she wondered if she played a role in it similar to the one he played in hers.

[doctornota]

That came from years of drinking with Jim 'Hands' Kirk, thank you - he'd learned how to snatch a glass or bottle back lightning-fast, no matter how tanked he was. Sometimes it took a couple of tries, but he always got it back, and Christine wasn't even holding it away from him. Easy as pie.

At her question, he nodded little, slumping back onto the couch and letting the world pitch as it would. "Last week. Finally got it fucking closed on Monday; never thought the goddamned thing would go away."

[rightawaydoctor]

If she wanted to finish the bottle herself, Christine would have to keep a tight grip on it. With another long drink from it, the liquid was nearing the bottom and Christine planned to keep the rest away from him.

After he fell back, she scooted closer and bumped her shoulder against his in a comforting gesture.

"Wanna talk about it?"

[doctornota]

He had another bottle in his room, but he'd probably have to make Christine go up and get it. If he wanted to get back upstairs, he'd be crawling, and he sure as hell wouldn't be coming back down.

"Sucked," he replied succinctly, scowling, staring at the wall, eyes slightly unfocused as the images played before his eyes. "Jim was there. Had a better best friend. You were there. Liked Dr. Puri a hell of a lot more than you ever liked me. And medbay ran like, like ... " He tried to snap his fingers. "Like that."

[rightawaydoctor]

"That's sounds like mine. But you know what? Dr. Puri was a good man, and I liked him a lot, but I wouldn't trade you for anybody else." She leaned forward a little, trying to meet his eyes. "I like you just as you are. I like that I'm the only one of the nurses who isn't scared or annoyed by you, because I know you're a good person under all that complaining and can-- cantankerous attitude." The alcohol was starting to hit her, and she paused to say cantankerous in her head to make sure she'd pronounced it right.

Quickly downing the rest of the bottle, she set it back on the coffee table. "I like you best, and you'd better believe it or I'm gonna annoy you everyday until you know it's true."

[doctornota]

McCoy snorted. "That's what Jim said, too. After he tried to break my fuckin' wall. That I was still gonna be his CMO after we got out of here." He was quiet for a moment. "What'd you see? Your parents?"

[rightawaydoctor]

Upon hearing that Jim had wailed on McCoy's wall, Christine giggled and pressed her fingertips to the bridge of her nose; an action she often displayed while getting drunk. That was just like the Captain. The best way to deal with problems was to use bodily force.

Her mood sobered however, when he mentioned her parents. "There was no me, so they went off on fancy vacations and went out on dates without having to worry about getting home in time to send off the babysitter. They just really enjoyed their lives." She sighed, plopping back beside him and setting her cheek against his shoulder. A tipsy Christine became an affectionate, touchy-feely Christine.

"Then it changed to you. You and the rest of the medbay. And her in my place."

[doctornota]

"Never happen in a million years," he replied, and though he made a token effort to push her off his shoulder, his hand-eye coordination was - well, a nice word for it was 'lacking.' He ended up flailing a little by her shoulder and eventually dropping his hands back in his lap. "Harrison's a moron. I guess she means well, but medbay under her control would be like a tornado hit it. A bad tornado."

[rightawaydoctor]

She snickered at his failure to push her away. Really, she delighted in pushing his buttons, just to see how far he'd let her go. Apparently when as drunk as he was, he'd give up before making too much of an effort.

"You know our professors only passed her 'cause they needed all the people they could get up there after-- after you know." Sitting up straight, she turned to face him. "It's too bad all the alcohol's gone. I got a good buzz goin' and I want more. Oh wait, scratch that. This is you I'm talkin' to. I know you've got more booze somewhere, dontcha?"

Now that she was feeling tipsy, her accent was making a reappearance.

[doctornota]

"Yeah, I know." One of the smallest graduating classes in Starfleet history. So many empty chairs, so many diplomas given in memoriam. At her question, he glanced over at the blonde, managing a decently condescending look. "Of course I have more. Jesus Christ, Christine, what kind of man d'you think I am? We're either gonna have to go upstairs or you're gonna have to bring it down here, though."

[rightawaydoctor]

"Upstairs?" He earned a withering look from her at that. "You couldn't take two steps right now, much less make it up those stairs. You'd crack your damn head open."

Standing up, she wavered slightly, then found her balance. "Now, where are you keeping it?"

[doctornota]

"Closet." He made a sort of rectangle with his hands, indicating his closet door. "When you go in, straight ahead is clothes, but just to the side is a little, little - fuck me, it's a, a - " He snapped his fingers, trying to remember the word. "A thingy. An indentation." (A niche, he might have called it were his language receptors not rather severely inhibited.) "There's a little door, 'bout a foot off the ground. Dunno what whoever lived there before kept in there, but that's where I keep the booze."