The next morning the two cadets didn't discuss the events that had transpired the night before. They didn't mention the way Jim had practically cried himself hoarse. Or the slightly bloody fingernail marks on McCoy's hands from clenching his fists so tight.
They didn't say a thing but both were grateful for each other's company, and while Jim would never admit it to anyone, McCoy was certain he was glad to have told someone else about the horrors he had lived through, relieved that he no longer had to carry that burden alone.
"So when you going in to speak with Krestridge?" McCoy questioned around a mouthful of cereal.
Jim shrugged a shoulder in response, pushing his own cereal around in the milk it was presently soaking up. McCoy was fairly certain the kid had no intentions of actually consuming any of it. "Well he said he didn't want to see me in class so I'll probably go in later this afternoon, after he's finished teaching for the day. He was pretty pissed, wasn't he?"
"Pissed? Jim, I honestly think he almost had an aneurism."
Jim actually grimaced at that, releasing a heavy sigh. "I didn't mean to cause trouble."
"You never do." McCoy grumbled to his spoon.
Jim didn't even acknowledge the comment. " I was just trying to prove a point, you know? Argue my opinion."
"Of which you have many."
"Hey!" Jim shouted, eyes blazing with anger not necessarily for McCoy but most certainly directed at him. "I will not apologize for speaking my mind!"
McCoy raised his hands at the sudden assault, the universal symbol for surrender. "Jim, I'm just stating that your mouth has gotten you into trouble before and if you don't change something, it will get you into trouble again."
"I know, you've made that point before."
"Oh have I?"
"After that bar fight last month, and the "brawl" two weeks ago on the steps of Sato Dinning Hall."
"Well it's nice to know you at least hear my wise suggestions. Even if you refuse to listen."
Jim dropped his spoon into his bowl with a clatter. "Bones I just- I can't always help it! Sometimes my body does things before the rational side of my brain can catch up and tell me it's a bad idea."
"You're impulsive."
"I'm spontaneous."
"Those are synonyms Einstein. Have you at least thought about what you're gonna say to the guy?" McCoy stood and carried both sets of dishes to the sink.
Jim waited for the grinding of the disposal to finish devouring his untouched cereal before continuing. "I was planning on winging it."
"Oh like you winged your point at the debate? Yeah that'll blow over real well."
"The guy says the wrong thing and my script goes out the window anyway!"
"So why make one up at all." Leonard leaned against the counter in exasperation as he watched his friend with a slightly challenging glare.
Jim simply nodded, keeping his gaze locked on the wall to McCoy's left. "Why make one up at all." He echoed quietly before standing with a sigh and heading towards the bathroom, presumably to shower before his meeting with Krestridge.
McCoy was left standing alone in their small kitchen and dining area cursing whatever god happened to be listening that his friend was even going through this. It seriously seemed to him that Jim's life was one shit storm after another and it just wasn't fair. But such was the way of life and McCoy knew Jim wouldn't be the person he had grown to care for and love had those things not happened to him.
A/N: Another stupidly short chapter, sorry. I promise, Krestridge will get what's coming to him, in the next chapter, which I will hopefully update tomorrow! So, I don't know if they have garbage disposals in the future, or what the equivalent would be, and I'm most certainly not creative enough to make something up. They have a high-tech, futuristic garbage disposal. Deal. :) As always, I hope you enjoyed my latest installment! Until next time!