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kirktasticAt least he made it to his quarters before he lost it.
Kirk walked straight to the bathroom, toeing off his boots in the process, throwing medical jumpsuit onto the floor. He sunk down on the floor beside the toilet, brought his knees up to his chest, and dropped his forehead to them. He breathed out slowly, then let out a quietly frustrated sound.
That was as far as he made it before he turned and threw up, making it to the toilet by sheer force of muscle memory from many drinking nights in the past.
Bones had been broken, down on that planet. A broken mess of a man that was covered in blood and pinked-burned skin and dirt and so damned cold. The image would not leave his mind, the whole scene playing out in his mind. It was his fucking fault Bones had been down there. His fault. Bones hadn't wanted to go, but he had forced him.
And now the one long-term relationship of any kind in his life was in sickbay, held together by bandages and meds and sheer human will power.
"What the fuck?" He whispered to himself, tasting sour vile in the back of his throat. It reminded him of something he refused to let himself think about. Seeing another place, another time, so many dead broken bone-thin bodies--
He lost his stomach again, eyes squeezing shut. He forced himself away from the toilet and just laid there on the cool tile of the floor. The reeking smell of smoke and chemical and rusting metal all sat thick in his nose even after all of those hours. He kept his eyes closed, knowing he should get a shower (cold one, so his skin didn't try to climb off his bones), but.. just not caring. The tile felt deliciously cold.
He could go be captain in a while. Right now, he just wanted to ignore everything and hate the world for having hurt Bones like that.
Ignoring the awkwardness and unsure nature of the relationship? That... was a little less possible.
His mind replayed the kiss in the shuttle bay, the look in his friend's eyes, and wished all of this crap was so much less confusing.
Kirk walked straight to the bathroom, toeing off his boots in the process, throwing medical jumpsuit onto the floor. He sunk down on the floor beside the toilet, brought his knees up to his chest, and dropped his forehead to them. He breathed out slowly, then let out a quietly frustrated sound.
That was as far as he made it before he turned and threw up, making it to the toilet by sheer force of muscle memory from many drinking nights in the past.
Bones had been broken, down on that planet. A broken mess of a man that was covered in blood and pinked-burned skin and dirt and so damned cold. The image would not leave his mind, the whole scene playing out in his mind. It was his fucking fault Bones had been down there. His fault. Bones hadn't wanted to go, but he had forced him.
And now the one long-term relationship of any kind in his life was in sickbay, held together by bandages and meds and sheer human will power.
"What the fuck?" He whispered to himself, tasting sour vile in the back of his throat. It reminded him of something he refused to let himself think about. Seeing another place, another time, so many dead broken bone-thin bodies--
He lost his stomach again, eyes squeezing shut. He forced himself away from the toilet and just laid there on the cool tile of the floor. The reeking smell of smoke and chemical and rusting metal all sat thick in his nose even after all of those hours. He kept his eyes closed, knowing he should get a shower (cold one, so his skin didn't try to climb off his bones), but.. just not caring. The tile felt deliciously cold.
He could go be captain in a while. Right now, he just wanted to ignore everything and hate the world for having hurt Bones like that.
Ignoring the awkwardness and unsure nature of the relationship? That... was a little less possible.
His mind replayed the kiss in the shuttle bay, the look in his friend's eyes, and wished all of this crap was so much less confusing.
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Date: 2009-08-02 08:22 pm (UTC)He growled a little to himself. "Oh, I have something to say to them about the situation on that planet. A lot of something." He stood up, walking to his closet, pulling out a clean uniform.
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Date: 2009-08-02 08:40 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-08-02 08:45 pm (UTC)[OOC: Follow along that thread for now!]