bakerstreet | (no subject)

Entry tags:

(no subject)

The HAUNTED HOUSE Meme

For whatever reason, you've ended up in a creepy house - possibly in the middle of nowhere, possibly not. Nothing else to do but explore, and see where you've ended up.

... did you hear that?

INSTRUCTIONS
- Tag with your character's name and fandom in the subject line!
- Find other awesome people to tag!
- Tag them by rolling the RNG for a choice of prompt!
- GET SCARING.

PROMPTS
1 - Car Broke Down
2 - Poor Choice of Vacation Home
3 - Everywhere Else Was Booked Up
4 - New Home
5 - Lost a Bet
6 - Ancestral Home/Grandma's Got Weird Taste in Wall Decoration
7 - Secluded in the Woods
8 - You're the Ghost!
9 - Free Roll/Combine

By the very nature of this being a scary/horror meme, there may be triggers within, so tread carefully!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only | Expand All

You need two priests.

[Beat.]

...You know. Like in that really old movie. An old priest and a young priest. Except I'm not the devil so you really don't need to cast me out.

Don't break any of my shit and I won't have to start telling people you are.

- how the hell did you even know that, anyway?

That's why I was practicing on your sheets, I can't break those.

...Do you think there's ever much to do in Iowa? I had a lot of time on my hands to watch old, old movies.

[Sigh. He can't win. Taking another swig of his drink, he considers.]

I dunno, didn't you ever harvest corn or something?

Well, first of all, the harvest season's only a month or so, in the fall.

And, uh. We grew wheat, not corn. Pretty sure I've mentioned that a few hundred times the last seven years or so.

Like I ever listened.

[And now Jim is dead.

His hand clenches on the glass, and he finishes off the glass in one more go before refilling it again. His hand is shaking now, some of the bourbon splashing on the counter.]

Fuck.

[He sets the bottle down and reaches for a towel, cleaning it, because the spilled bourbon is the problem, obviously.]

Bones...

[He sighs. What can he even do anymore? Nothing more than this, right here, hanging around and watching his best friend drink himself into oblivion.]

What?

[He throws the sodden paper towel away and turns to face the other man, arms crossed over his chest.]

[He goes back and forth, searching for the right answer, and he finally decides the most honest one is best.]

I want to help but I don't know what to do.

Be quite frank, Jim, I don't think there's anything anyone can do.

[He looks down at his glass, swirling it.]

Even this isn't helping as much as I want.

I'm sorry, Bones.

[He hangs his head.]

This isn't what I wanted for you.

[There's a bark of laughter, even if it's not actually ... happy.]

You think this is what I wanted for you, Jim? D -

[The word catches in his throat, and he clutches the glass tighter, knuckles going white.]

- at - at thirty? Hell, no!

Okay, point taken, this isn't what I had in mind for myself, either.

But you...

I didn't mean to go and leave you all alone. That was never my plan. I'm sorry.

I'm not alone. I still got you, wreaking havoc in my fucking linen closet. Just like old times.

No, I-- I'm still here, yeah. I chose to be. So you wouldn't be alone.

You chose to be.

So ... did you see it? Whatever comes next? Can you go back?

No, no, nothing like that. I mean, if there is something I didn't see it. It was more like this... feeling. Like somehow knowing I was supposed to keep moving on, keep going.

But I chose not to.

I hope you didn't give up your chance of ... whatever the hell comes next, just for me.

No, no. It's still there. I still feel it calling or whatever. But...

[Awkward. Does he even have the right to say things like this, now? Does it help or make things worse?]

I would've stayed even if it meant missing that chance to move on.

[No matter what Jim thinks he sees, McCoy's eyes are absolutely not a little too bright right now, and if his hand is shaking as he pours another glass of bourbon and tosses it back, then it's got to be the booze affecting him.]

Will you ever have to go?

[Jim thinks he sees it all the same, and it tears him up, knowing there's not a lot of comfort he can offer right now.]

I don't know. I don't think so. It doesn't feel like I can be yanked away against my will or anything. But I don't think I can promise this is permanent, I don't want to do that and find out later I'm wrong.

But I'll stay as long as I can. I promise you that.

I'll take it.

[He sets the glass down, too heavily, and brings a hand to his head.]

I need to sit down. Fuck.

[Jim starts to reach for him but stops himself short a second later. Old habits die hard. He's not sure he can actually take his friend's arm or let Bones lean on him.]

Yeah, come on. I'll go with you.

Thanks.

[He finds himself half reaching out for Jim, to steady himself, but he stops when his fingers encounter nothing but a cold spot in the air.]

Fuck. You're so cold.

I don't... feel it anymore? If that's any consolation.

[It's probably not.]

Come on, let's get you sitting down.