look at all the booze

I wish, I wish

SUMMARY: A portion of a series of letters from Leonard “Bones” McCoy.

WORD COUNT: 779 words


NOTES: I like writing somber things, if you couldn’t tell. Anyways, many “prompts” are sprinkled through this from the drabble requests. Might make shorts off those lines in the future, but for now, enjoy :)

@badwolf-nine (”please don’t leave me alone” and “I said I love you”)
@the-mormon-girl-in-the-books, (”actually, I just miss you”) 
@watsonimura, (”have you done it yet?”)


Well, it’s been a week here in space. We’ve just gotten out of the solar system, and things are beginning to look up. Despite the whining from Scotty and all, with his shortage of booze, the crew seems okay. I miss you, of course. I don’t know how I’ll make it five years without my best friend. Maybe these letters will help, as long as our servers don’t crash in deep space. And maybe next time we dock somewhere, maybe I can see you.



We’ve hit one month. Not too many sick people, not too many injuries. Three ground missions on new planets and four new galaxies discovered. I’ve lost one on my duty so far. His name was Alex, a young engineer who was too close to a ruptured boiler valve. Poor kid, he was dead by the time he got to the operating table. I wish I could’ve done something. I wish.


Two months, five deaths. Four engineers, one nurse with the slip of a needle. She was quickly killed from an infection. She didn’t go smoothly, though, and I wish I could’ve helped her pain. But how are you? I hope you’re getting these letters. Our signal is weakening, but it’s still there. I hope Earth is treating you well, I hope you’re moving quickly in ranks.

You don’t miss me too much, do ya?


I went on my first ground mission today as a medic. It was easy, and there were no issues, but having my feet on a rock made me miss home more than ever. It was gorgeous, and I don’t even know the name of the planet. You would’ve loved it. I’ll send pictures.

Say hi to Professor McHilo for me. It’s been awhile since I’ve talked to him. I reread an old email, and found some old papers. I am beginning to miss the Academy. Earth. Solid ground.

I wish you were there today.


I don’t think you’re getting these anymore, are you? You’ve stopped responding, or I’ve stopped receiving. So I guess I’m writing to space now. I’ll pretend your the stars, and I’ll message you all night. I feel just as lost in them as I am in you, anyways. It’s endless, you know, space. No wonder we’re here for five years. There’s no way a crew could go as far as we are, could get as lost as us. Poor us. I pity this ship.

Maybe you’ll get these one day. Maybe I’ll show you them when I get back.


Space is horrible. Being this alone, even with a massive crew. How do they stay stable? I feel like if someone bumped into me, my ass would float off into nothing. I don’t even think my messages are going through anymore. I’m writing to myself, aren’t I? Am I alone?

Please don’t leave me alone.


Jim was asking about you today. He was talking about back home, and a few of the people we left behind were brought up. We had a few drinks prior, so it’s blurry. I think I said I love you. I talked about your hair and your clothes, and how I think I missed you the most.

The best part? I don’t think he heard.


One year. Have you done it yet? Have you graduated? I think you must be, there’s no way you should be stuck at the Academy for more than four years. Are you a pilot yet? Have you flown a starship? Have you seen space? Have you left Earth? Have you forgotten me? It’s probably best if you do. It’s only been a year. I hope you have.

I pray you haven’t.


Day 500. Why am I still writing to you? It’s shown we have no signal, only a line to Starfleet and the other ships. Maybe you’re on another ship by now. Maybe you’re flying it. What a thought! God, I hope you’re doing well. I miss hearing your stories, and hearing about your day. I miss being able to joke with you, and you getting my humour. Actually, I just miss you. Nothing in particular, just you as a whole. I miss you.


I named a star after you. It was blue, like your favourite colour, bright and metallic. One of the hottest and smallest stars we’ve seen. God, it was gorgeous. No one knows I named it but me. It’s been a week and I can still see it. It’s so bright. It reminds me of you.

I wish I could see you.

I wish I were home.

(I wish, I wish, upon a star)

TAGLIST: @feelmyroarrrr

For real dude, I don’t wanna grow up.
—  white woman, in Boulder