Written in McCoy's perspective
The bottom of the bottle seemed too close. The liquid that had been in there not long ago seemed long gone, even if it was just five minutes since he had opened it. McCoy sighed heavily and leaned back in his chair. The whiskey just didn't do it's usual to him. The alcohol didn't help at all this time. Not this time.
Exactly two days ago, McCoy had pursued his love for his best friend Jim Kirk. He had felt so strong about him for such a long time, and felt it was time to close the distance between them. Doing this, he believed their relationship would turn another step up, where everything would be better. He would be loved, and he would love. After his divorce with his ex-wife, who had taken both his kids and his house, and left him only his bones, he had searched for a different kind of love. A new kind of love. And he had found this love in his best friend. Or so he had thought.
Two days ago, McCoy had entered Kirk's living quarters to tell him about his thoughts, about how he just couldn't stop thinking about him and how he wanted them to become more than friends. More than best friends. But to McCoy's disappointment Kirk had turned him down.
"How can you just reject me like that?" McCoy had asked.
"I don't know, Bones .. I'm confused."
"Confused? About Spock and you?"
Kirk had only nodded silently while McCoy stared intensely at him.
"Spock doesn't even have the ability to love! Let alone feel any kind of passion for you, like I do .."
The tension in the room become so heavy, McCoy felt it almost hard to breathe. Or it could just be because of his heart breaking right there and then. Was his friend not thinking about his feelings? "You know what, fine! I don't care. But don't come to me for comfort when Spock rejects YOU."
And with that, McCoy turned on his heel and walked out of the room, with Kirk sitting on the edge of his bed in silence.
There was now a new bottle next to the empty one on the table. Finest whiskey ever brewed, he read on the label. "Bullshit," he muttered and poured some of the liquid into his glass. Usually whiskey cured every problem he had, but not this time. This time, he sat there still with his feelings hurt by his best friend.
Well, he couldn't blame Kirk. He had just blurted out all his love for him, without any warning. Of course he would react this way. "Why am I always so fucking stupid .." he spoke loudly to himself. He could make any sick person become healthy again, but his heart was a nother matter. There was no medicine for this kind of thing.
McCoy sighed again and poured the contents of his glass in his mouth and let it run down his throat. It burned, but the stinging felt good to him. It always did. So he poured some more into his glass and drank it up. Repeating this until the new bottle became just as empty as the old one.
A sudden headache rose up in his head after the second bottle, and McCoy thought it wise to get rid of it with some painkillers. After all, a headache wasn't something he couldn't cure. Unlike his heart ..
He didn't count how many pills he took from the little container, and just slipped them into his mouth. He was too drunk to care right now, he just wanted the headache to be gone. He swallowed it down with another glass of whiskey, from a third new bottle now, and sat back in his chair once more.
"I wonder .." McCoy let his head fall backwards and his eyes reached the ceiling, "would Kirk notice if I'm gone?"