Shower
Bone-weary, Leonard McCoy sinks onto the side of his bed.
He sits there a moment, too tired to move, too tired to think. He runs his hands through his hair, and falls back on the bed. He scrubs at his eyes for a second, then squeezes them shut against the light stabbing down at him.
He breathes through the pain as all of the tensed places in his back scream in protest at the abrupt change in position.
He needs to get up, he needs to eat, he needs to shower. He needs a drink.
His eyelids feel tight, and he drops one elbow over his face. But the view inside his eyelids is no less painful than the light - and he struggles to a sitting position.
He imagines he can feel his bones creaking as he bends to undo his boots.
He tosses those into the corner, and his socks wind up there, too. He starts to throw his surgical tunic – but years of Med School training assert themselves, and he climbs heavily to his feet. He grabs the socks, and wadding them up with the tunic, drops them into the bin. The rest of his clothes follow.
Naked, he stumbles into the bathroom, and winces in the uncompromising double glare of overhead light and gleaming surfaces. He flips on the shower – he figures he deserves a real one, today – and turns up the temp. He leans one arm against the shower door jamb; his elbow twinges a little. He drops his head, and waits for the room to fill with steam.
When he looks up, there is a rivulet running down the mirror - He's not sure, but he might have dozed off.
He steps into the cubicle and the blast of water strikes him. The droplets sting against his skin with scouring force, and his skin reddens instantly. But the pain feels good: It is immediate, distracting him from a more insidious pain.
The water feels good. It runs in his eyes, blinding him, but it washes away the visions that threaten to creep in behind closed lids.
The heat feels good – He feels his muscles relaxing, and he begins to think he just might get some sleep.
The soap, the shampoo, feel good. He raises his arms to scrub his hands through his hair – Massaging his scalp, he feels stiff fingers loosen, and a lessening of the dull ache behind his eyes. He inhales the fragrance, and is reminded of home.
He feels better, younger – suddenly clean.