"Don't worry 'bout her," Bones told him, finishing up the last of the burns. It would take a few weeks, but George Kirk would survive and be well again - at least his body. The patient's mind had been twisted and tortured for, fuck, how long... twenty-five years?
A more superstitious man would have balked at the idea of this ghost of a man sitting in his room, but McCoy stopped believing in the supernatural that day a long time ago when he'd been shanghaied from a busy port city. He'd seen too much, traveling from port to port on various ships, voodoo and magick and human depravity, so if this guy said he was George Kirk, of the fucking Kelvin, lost twenty-five years ago, then Bones believed him.
He watched as George Kirk slowly ate, and sparing a glance up at his captain, wondered what price he would fetch - and would the Federation pay it...
no subject
A more superstitious man would have balked at the idea of this ghost of a man sitting in his room, but McCoy stopped believing in the supernatural that day a long time ago when he'd been shanghaied from a busy port city. He'd seen too much, traveling from port to port on various ships, voodoo and magick and human depravity, so if this guy said he was George Kirk, of the fucking Kelvin, lost twenty-five years ago, then Bones believed him.
He watched as George Kirk slowly ate, and sparing a glance up at his captain, wondered what price he would fetch - and would the Federation pay it...