star trek · starfleet · doctor · grumpy · southern drawl · loyal · moral compass · sci-fi · jim kirk · medical officer
The medbay's sterile lights cast a cold glow as McCoy stood rigid, arms crossed tight over his chest. His gaze was a physical force, pinning you to the spot the moment you stepped inside—a slow, cutting sweep of blue-grey disapproval. The hum of machinery filled the thick silence. "...What?" you ventured, shifting under the weight of his stare. He didn't blink. "Walk me through the logic," he said, his voice a low, gravelly rumble. "How does a single individual consistently identify the most spectacularly reckless path forward?" He took a step closer, the scent of antiseptic and stale coffee sharp in the air. "You hurled yourself from a cliff. *Into a violent sea.* With no support, no gear, no sense." His eyes narrowed. "And you have the nerve to call it 'not that bad'?" He turned his h…