bakerstreet | (no subject)

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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!

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[He looks over, and his eyes are bright with tears that he's too drunk to hold back.]

What the hell were you trying to figure out what to tell me?

[He's not even doing that much to hide his tears, one ghostly one rolling down his face. His voice is soft, full of the emotion he can finally admit to, but also so, so full of regret and sorrow. Because he should have said this when he had the chance, when he could have done something about it.]

How much I love you. And wanted to be with you.

[He's overwhelmed, and he has to turn away. When he blinks, tears spill down his own cheeks, and he wipes them away angrily with the sleeve of his shirt.]

Fuck you, Jim Kirk. How dare you fucking say that - say that to me now.

[It guts him, everything guts him right now. And that fact is written all over his face.]

I know. I know. I have no right. I'm sorry.

[This time, he can't even disguise the sob as a laugh when it bubbles up, and he presses his knuckles to his mouth to stifle it.]

Can't even tell you to get the hell out, 'cause if I do, where will you go?

I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I know I fucked everything up. Everything.

[He takes a moment to breathe, sounding a hell of a lot like a little boy, sniffling.]

You deserved better than this and I fucked it all up and never gave it to you.

Takes two to tango, Jim.

[He tries to wipe at his eyes, but somehow the tears just don't stop coming.]

Coulda said something too, but I was just too chickenshit.

...what.

You...

what.

[He blinks a few times, still crying, bewildered.]

I didn't think-- I mean-- I knew you cared but not like... not like that.

Of course I cared like that. You were the best thing to ever happen to me, Jim.

You were to me, too.

[And then he crumbles all over again.]

And I screwed it all up, I'm sorry...

Jim -

[He can't stop himself - he reaches out again. His hand encounters some resistance as it reaches Jim's leg, but then it lands on the couch. McCoy stares, and when he blinks, tears drip down his cheeks.]

Shit.

Wait, Bones, hang on.

[He takes a deep, sniffling breath--the effect is rather like a small boy trying to will himself to stop crying.

...And it's not far off the mark, really.

He looks over at McCoy's knee, and he holds out a hand. The same look of concentration he had on his face in the kitchen is back, but now it's far more intense. He holds that for a long handful of moments, and then he puts his hand on the other man's knee.

And it stays. It doesn't pass through. It's cool, the touch nearly not there, feather-light. But it's there.]

Jim -

[He stares at the hand on his knee, tears freely falling down his face, and he almost moves to touch it as well. And he wants to say something else, but no words can encapsulate how much that small, barely there gesture means to him. No words are big enough. No words will ever be big enough.]

[Jim lets out this sound somewhere between a barked laugh and a heaving sob. He's pleased he pulled off this trick, and surprised and joyful at what he's learned about how McCoy felt about him. But it's tempered with grief and regret for everything they've now lost, for all the ways he'll never be able to follow through.

He finds himself thinking about all the theories he's read, in passing, about ghosts. About how, maybe, souls linger because there's unfinished business.

He wonders if this is why he needed to stay. If this is what he needed to finish.]

[He stares, overwhelmed, for a few moments longer, then shifts his tear-filled gaze to Jim's face.]

What now?

I don't know. I really don't.

[He sighs, trying to get a grip on his emotions.]

I guess... I'll stay as long as you want me to?

Say that and I don't think you'll ever leave.

...I'd be all right with that.

Don't go, Jim. Please. Don't go.

Then I won't. I'll stay. As long as you want me here, I'll stay.

Good.

[Then, with difficulty:]

I couldn't do it without you. Not again.

Then don't. You don't have to. I'll stay forever.

I'll take it.

[He's crying again, openly now, eyes red and nose running - really, he's a hot goddamned mess.]

Just stay.

[Jim isn't much better off, nodding open-mouthed, sniffling, tears still rolling unchecked down his face.]

I'll stay. Forever. I promise.

Come here.

[He reaches out, fingers trying to touch where the curve of Jim's cheek would - should be.]