Two
Emily grimaced as she stepped out of the shuttle and into the transport station. She was immediately greeted by a wave of hot, humid air. It was the middle of summer in Georgia, so she wasn't entirely surprised by the heat. It annoyed her to no end when her hair suddenly became a wild mess. She wasn't a fan of the heat, or the humidity.
She could never understand how people stood the heat like this. She'd gotten tired of dealing with the heatwaves that would constantly wrack the state. Though truthfully, she did enjoy the summer nights where she and McCoy would just spend the evening watching the stars. Those had been some of her favorite moments, mostly because they were the rare chances she had to spend with him.
A shiver swept through her as she recalled the last time she had stepped foot in Georgia. The last time had been to spend with McCoy after a bitter argument with his mother. She'd begun regretting the fact that they'd used her as a mediator. She knew it was a fool hearty mission to act like a barrier between them. Especially since McCoy had always been close to his family. Emily realized with a start that the rift between them had only gotten worse after his divorce with Pamela. His father's death had created the rift, but the divorce only made it worse.
People walking past gave her strange looks as she emerged from the transport station. By now, most folks who lived in the city were well aware of who she was. She quickly learned the best thing to do in a situation like this was blend in. She hated standing out among a crowd, especially since most of these people would judge her based on the rumors Pamela likely spread.
She nearly rolled her eyes at the thought of what people likely thought of her. She knew in the back of her mind that they were baseless rumors, spreading around town like wildfire to give her a bad name. And while some of them true about her sleeping around with other men, most of them were not true.
She tried pushing those uneasy thoughts aside as she walked across town to the prison where McCoy was being held. SHIELD had already paid for his bailout fee, which left her with picking up the pieces. She wasn't looking forward to seeing the state McCoy was in when she found him. From the photos Director Fury had saved, they weren't pretty.
She couldn't help but feel guilty for the fact that she hadn't been there more often to provide whatever support she could. Her work within the agency had kept her from visiting him more often, though that didn't stop her from at least calling him every other day. She'd been there for him during the divorce process, but it wasn't as if she could stay there forever.
No one ever said it would be easy, she reminded herself. No one ever told her it would be easy having to face the past. Or to confront what had been eating away at her. She swallowed hard as she finally reached the prison in question. The guards standing outside just looked at her in disbelief when she explained her reasons for stopping by. They recognized her almost immediately as someone who'd grown up in the smaller city, though thankfully they made no comment on her untimely appearance.
"He's lucky someone was able to pay that steep price," one of the guards remarked as he led the way to the prison cell in question. Emily grimaced at the accusation in his voice. She was the one who would likely pay for SHIELD's contribution. "I'm surprised you're still willing to keep in touch with him after everything that happened."
She held back a sigh when the guard glanced at her pointedly. Most people had known that she and McCoy were dating for the last five years before their bitter fallout. Pamela had ruined everything the moment she wormed her way into McCoy's heart. She realized with a start that all of this had been her fault.
If she'd stopped by for a visit more often, maybe none of this would have happened. If McCoy hadn't ignored her calls when she was released from the ICU, maybe this wouldn't have happened. She tried ignoring the guard's jibe as he unlocked the door leading to McCoy's cell. Her heart wrenched when she saw him for the first time in what felt like years.
"Passed out the moment we dragged him in there," the other guard snorted in disgust. "Hasn't woken up since then."
Maybe because he was suffering from alcohol poisoning, she wanted to snap at them. The room wreaked of alcohol, telling her that McCoy had been wallowing in self-pity the other night. She let out a heavy sigh as she walked into the room, carefully stepping over what appeared to be dried vomit. Her stomach twisted into a knot when she knelt down to get a better look at him.
He really did look like a mess. His hair was a wild mop, whereas he normally kept it clean and well-cropped. She wasn't surprised to see that a beard had begun covering his face. From what Hannah explained to her, he'd stopped caring after the divorce was filed. She tried pushing back the growing anger when she realized none of this would have happened had she been there sooner.
Carefully she held him up, eyes widening in alarm when she saw the black eye he sported. She could see faint specks of blood from where he'd been punched a few times, telling her that he hadn't received medical attention. She inspected him carefully to make sure there wasn't anything worse than the few injuries that were visible.
Her heart sank the moment she saw him in that state. He was her best friend. Regardless of what they had been in the past, he was still her friend. Nothing would ever change that. Seeing him like that was enough to leave her wishing she hadn't been out so often. She knew this wouldn't have happened had she kept in touch with him more often. McCoy certainly deserved better than whatever she could provide.
"Leonard…" She gave him a careful shake, knowing that any wrong move could set him off.
It wasn't until hearing a sputtering cough that her shoulders sagged in relief. The moment McCoy came to was when he looked around, blinking rapidly against the harsh light beaming through the tiny window above them. Emily held back a sigh of relief when she saw he wasn't too far gone. She knew full-well that anything could have happened to him while he was incarcerated.
"The hell?" He let out an audible groan as he began to notice he wasn't alone. But the moment didn't last long when he suddenly wretched all over the floor. Emily nearly rolled her eyes at the stench that quickly filled the room. "Emily?"
"Jesus, Leonard," Emily rolled her eyes in disbelief, "You look like hell."
"I feel like hell," he grumbled in response. He rubbed the back of his head before vomiting once more, spilling out the remaining contents of alcohol along the floor. "What are you doin' here?"
Emily rose an eyebrow in surprise when she noticed how thick his accent was. His speech was a little slurred from what she guessed was a massive hangover. But she'd recognized his accent from the many times they used to drink together. Women who weren't from the area had swooned over him when he spoke, but she'd gotten so used to it that it hadn't bothered her.
She held back another sigh as she helped him back up. She knew the signs of depression when she saw them. And it was clear the divorce had taken a toll on him. Carefully, she held onto his forearm as she wondered how long it had been since he shaved. The beard covering his face looked as if it had been growing for the last month, and his hair was still a shaggy mess from lack of care as well.
"A little bird told me what happened," she explained. "Figured you've helped me enough times that it's time I returned the favor."
McCoy made a face at that, though he didn't bother arguing when she helped him back to his feet. He was still shaky on his legs, but he didn't let that stop him. The guard was watching them carefully, obviously making sure he didn't make a run for it or pull off any stupid moves on her. He didn't bother asking what she did to bail him out. The agency had already paid for it, and she would make up for it somehow.
Once they were far enough away, Emily pulled him to the side where she could get a better look at him. He really did look like hell. Emily's heart sank with pity as she realized she should have gotten there sooner. He clearly needed a friend now more than ever.
Before he could protest, she suddenly wrapped her arms around him.
It was at that point when he finally broke. She'd only seen him cry once, and that was at his father's funeral. This time was different. There was so much pain in his cry, so much bitterness that welled within him, and she hated the fact that there wasn't anything she could do about it. The only thing she could do was provide comfort. She wished there was a way to pull away those emotions… anything was better than watching him go down that path.
For a while, neither of them moved. Emily didn't bother trying to stop him. She knew he needed to let it out before they left. She understood more than anyone what it was like to spiral down a path like this. She had been at her lowest point. While Clint, Coulson and Tony had been the ones to pull her out of that point, that didn't mean she wouldn't be there for McCoy. She of all people knew what it was like to feel alone, and she didn't want him to share that experience.
Time suddenly felt as though it slowed down when McCoy let out a shuddering breath. Eventually he let out a heavy sigh, choking back the vile that rose in his throat once again. She wasn't sure if he'd expelled the contents of alcohol, so she let him use her as a crutch to hold on to.
"How much do you know?" he asked warily.
Emily glanced at him self-consciously as she wondered if he remembered the last time they had actually seen each other in person. It had been nearly two years since the divorce, and it was clear that those two years had taken a toll on him. She held back another sigh as she looked at nothing in particular. Maybe none of this would have happened had she been there for him in the first place.
It's too late for regrets, she told herself.
The only thing she could do now was provide what little comfort she could for him. She knew it wouldn't be easy to move forward, but at least he wasn't alone now. She carefully took hold of his hand, knowing that the connection she'd formed would stir once again. And sure enough, that familiar surge she'd felt years ago suddenly came rushing back.
McCoy seemed to freeze in place the moment she held his hand, all senses going haywire for a brief second. She knew the bond between them had never really been severed. Any time they had contact like that it was another painful reminder of what was lost between them years ago.
"My boss sent me the files after I was given a new assignment," she explained with equal caution. "Leonard, you of all people should know that drinking isn't going to solve all of your problems."
"Sure as hell helps me forget the bullshit the ex-wife put me through," he muttered crossly. "Took over the whole damn planet. Even my own mother believed I was responsible for what happened. She left me with nothin' but my damn bones."
She frowned at that. After seeing the way Pamela acted around him, she was hardly surprised that the woman would take advantage of the situation. She suddenly took hold of McCoy's hand and gave it a light squeeze, which was returned seconds later. She knew it would take time for him to fully recover from that bitter divorce. He still blamed her from time to time over what happened between them. Not that she wasn't surprised with the notion.
The few times he did lash out at her was filled with instant regret. She had little doubt that it was the alcohol that led to such confrontations, but it was enough of a reminder that there was a rift between them. McCoy learned the hard way not to retaliate, especially since she went out of her way to visit him.
"Even I know that's only temporary," she said thoughtfully. "Drinking only adds to depression… it muddles with your mind until there's nothing left. I don't want to see you going down that path, Leonard."
He looked at her in disbelief when he realized what she was implying. She didn't want to lose him. She'd already lost so much over the years. Losing him would be like a nail in the coffin. And it was then that realization hit him like a ton of bricks.
It took a few minutes for them to reach the shabby looking apartment he was currently staying at. From what he'd told her through their messages, McCoy had found a small apartment that was affordable and far from his ex-wife. Still, it wasn't easy for him to leave the place without people judging his every move. Guilt stabbed her in the chest as she thought of the numerous glares people had given him when they walked past.
She couldn't help but glance around in surprise when she noticed the pictures that lined a small bookcase on one side of the wall. Most of them were old photos of when they had been together. Emily swallowed hard when she realized that he'd kept all of them, even organizing them in the time they were taken. Those had been happier times in their lives when they were together. She could still remember the many times they had been together and carried each other through their darkest days.
"I wasn't expecting to see you again after all this time," he admitted as he sank into the only sofa in the living area. Emily held back a sigh as she reached for the first aid kit, knowing full-well he would need medical treatment for some of the injuries he'd suffered from. "We haven't exactly been on speaking terms."
Emily suddenly found herself feeling guiltier than ever when she returned to his side. She didn't miss the way he looked at her when she sat beside him on the armrest of the chair. The feeling of almost touching was enough to send familiar shockwaves through her. She knew he likely felt it too. Despite trying to hide it, she was becoming increasingly aware of the bond forming between them.
She knew most of that was her fault. She had been avoiding a confrontation for what felt like years. The truth was, she would always feel guilty for everything that happened between them. When she found out he was dating Pamela and had chosen the redhead over her, she turned her back on him for nearly a year. It was only after their time apart that he regretted everything that was lost between them.
"You're still my best friend, Leonard," she reminded him while carefully cleaning his forehead and tending to his black eye. McCoy seemed to relax immediately into her touch, leaving yet another painful reminder of their history together. She couldn't help but flinch a little at the thought of what they'd lost over those years. "I know I haven't been there when you needed me the most, but I'll always find some way of coming back."
It was his turn to look at her warily when she drew back, suddenly aware that they were in a precarious position. She could feel his eyes boring through her in that moment, as if he wasn't sure if she was real or not. She let out a quiet sigh as she placed the first aid kit on the floor next to them.
She knew he deserved a long-winded explanation as to why she'd practically jumped off the grid, but at the moment, that wasn't what was bothering her so much. She had a feeling he was dwelling on the fact that they were there together in a small room and she was sitting right next to him.
"I'm not sure what I did to deserve a friend like you," he suddenly said. Emily rose an eyebrow in surprise when she realized what he was implying. "All I ever seemed to do was make a mess out of things."
"I wouldn't necessarily go that far," she reassured him with a rare smile. "I understand why you chose her… I wasn't there when you needed a friend…"
She trailed off, realizing with a start that most of this really was her fault. While he hadn't helped by ignoring her when she was released from the ICU, she hadn't made things any better by continuing the trend. It wasn't until feeling his warm lips press against her bare shoulder that she was brought back to reality.
Emily's heart nearly skipped a beat when she realized too late what was happening. The familiar sensation was enough to send shivers of anticipation through her. She knew if she allowed him to continue, she would have given in to the sensations. There was too much history between them for her to ignore.
"Not gonna lie, I missed this," he let out a heavy sigh, alluding to how exhausted he was.
"Leonard…" She breathed in sharply through her nose, struggling to maintain her sense of surroundings when he reached her neck. "Leonard, we can't." She finally managed to pull away, though not without regretting her choice immediately. "I know this is just the hangover taking effect."
Relief swept through her the moment she heard him snoring seconds later. Emily's shoulders sagged the moment she stood up and went to grab a pillow. She swallowed hard as she recalled the countless nights they had spent together. Those had been some of the happiest moments of her life. Back when it felt as if someone did care for her as more than just an asset.
She shook her head when she made sure he had a pillow to rest against while looking around the living space. She hadn't necessarily booked a room for that evening. Sleeping on the streets wouldn't have come as a surprise at that point. But it didn't feel right to leave him behind. With a sigh of frustration, she finally grabbed a blanket and made a makeshift bed on the floor nearby. Emily cast a final glance at McCoy's sleeping form, knowing full-well that she made the right choice in stopping him. She just hoped that he was ready for the consequences in the morning.
.
.
It was well in the late morning when McCoy had woken up, feeling as if he'd been hit by a brick wall multiple times. He let out a groan as he felt his back crack from the lack of support he was sleeping on. When McCoy finally sat up, blinking his eyes awake, he gaped at the scene before him. His heart sank when he saw Emily sprawled out on the floor nearby.
At least she had the decency to wrap herself in blankets, and she was using her duffel bag as a pillow. But the floor couldn't be comfortable – it was hardwood after all. He couldn't help but think back to what had happened when they returned to his apartment later that day. All at once, the guilt from earlier came rushing back when he realized the position he'd put her in.
He grimaced as he recalled how much of a mess he'd looked the other day. Hell, he still looked like a mess and he felt like one as well. The fact that Emily stayed and checked on him meant more than he could ever admit out loud. All those years trying to pander to his ex-wife had been wasted, and for what? He'd often thought of swearing off women the moment Pamela filed for the divorce. After all, what use was suffering from heartache more than once? But, Emily had taken him by surprise on more than one occasion.
Shaking his head at the thought, McCoy decided to it was time to take action. Once he'd regained his footing and cleared the headache that had been wreaking havoc yesterday, he stood up and stretched. That had become one of his morning routines in an attempt to hide the wariness in his bones. He didn't want to admit out loud that marrying Pamela had been a mistake. It was an awful mistake that would forever change his life. It was also a wonder that Emily trusted him even after the crap he'd pulled. He knew most of her friends would never forgive him for what he'd done to her, and truthfully, he couldn't blame them.
A few minutes passed when he started the coffee maker and put some bacon on the stove. Breakfast had been a rare commodity these days. But he had a few things left over from when his mother stopped by. It would be her last visit after they argued for nearly an hour over what really happened. Pamela literally had the whole town wrapped around her fingers. She'd taken away what little credit he had to his name and left him in the dirt.
The more he thought about it, the angrier he got. McCoy was on the verge of looking for that bottle of whiskey he'd stored in the cabinets when he heard the sound of movement shuffling around. He whirled around in time to see that Emily was finally wide awake. McCoy swallowed hard when their eyes met; all the anger from earlier subsided in that moment. He couldn't stay angry for long. Not around Emily. After everything she had been through, taking his anger out on her was the last thing on his mind.
"It smells good," she said after reaching the kitchen.
It was tiny compared to what he was used to, but he supposed it would have to do. McCoy acknowledged her with a gruff nod, not wanting to take his eyes off of the stove. He was afraid she would know what had been on his mind just moments ago. She knew him well enough that she could anticipate his next move, whether he wanted to admit it out loud or not.
"I figured we could both use a little pick-me-up after yesterday's mess," he admitted. "Help yourself to some coffee; just brewed a fresh pot."
Her eyes lit up at the prospect of having a caffeinated drink, and she did just that. McCoy couldn't help but watch her curiously from the corner of his eye. It amazed him that she had the patience to put up with him, even after all these years.
"Coffee works wonders on the soul," she remarked once she let it cool and took a sip. McCoy just snorted in agreement. Coffee had been his go-to drink while taking classes in medical school. Other than alcohol when he was at the bar. "Do you need help?"
McCoy just threw her an incredulous look. He'd seen the disastrous attempts she made at cooking on her own. They'd known each other long enough for him to know that she was a terrible cook. She'd often tried helping his mother during the many nights they spent together when her father was busy with work. Though he was grateful when she grabbed the paper plates he'd bought earlier, setting the table as they easily worked around each other.
He found himself fumbling with a way to ask what had happened the other day. Bits and pieces of their conversation could be processed in his memories, but that was about it. What he did remember was waking up in the prison cell the other morning, feeling like hell as he threw up all the floor. And of course, she'd been there to see the whole mess. The last thing he wanted was for her to see him like that. But then again, she had likely seen worse.
She was always there for him when he needed a friend the most. He realized with a start that if it wasn't for her, he would have likely spiraled further than he had. It was with that notion when he realized that he didn't deserve a friend like her. Not after the shit he'd pulled off more often than he could count. The irony of it all wasn't lost on him either. He knew she spiraled out of control as well, though he was never aware of the full extent of damage caused by that spiral.
"About the other day, I uh… I'm not sure how much you heard or saw…"
Emily rose an eyebrow and took another sip of her coffee, "Do you want an honest answer? Or for me to sugarcoat it?" When McCoy rolled his eyes, he knew it couldn't have been good as she let out a heavy sigh. "We walked back to your apartment after I bailed you out of prison… you mentioned how you argued with your mother and your ex-wife." McCoy squeezed his eyes shut as guilt stabbed him in the chest. He knew she shouldn't have heard any of that. "Leonard, you scared the hell out of me when I saw how intoxicated you were."
He flinched at the accusation in her voice. Hell, he deserved more than a verbal lashing after what he put her through. The fact that she was willing to put up with it meant more than he could ever admit out loud. McCoy let out a tired sigh and rubbed his forehead, knowing he needed to get his shit together before things spiraled out of control. He'd already almost lost control with her the other night. He knew damn-well that she should have left him there the moment he tried pulling off that stunt. But her willingness to forgive constantly took him by surprise.
He wasn't sure how he'd earned such forgiveness, especially after everything he'd done to her. Time and time again, it always seemed as though Emily was catching him by surprise. Whether it was through forgiving him or just being there to provide comfort when he needed it. Deep down, McCoy knew that the feelings he once had for her had never faded.
"I'm sorry," he muttered after letting those words sink in. "Hell, I know I'm a mess right now… God knows how long it's gonna take to pick up the pieces."
It wasn't until she suddenly reached out for his hands that McCoy finally made eye contact with her. He found himself wanting nothing more than to get lost within those dark brown eyes. Not for the first time, he was left feeling nothing more than guilt as he thought of how they could have salvaged their relationship.
"Well, if there's one thing I've learned about you over the years, it's that you never give up," she pointed out. It was McCoy's turn to raise an eyebrow doubtfully as her eyes danced with their usual mischief. "I'm sure things will start to look up once people figure out none of this was your fault."
"Yeah, well, it ain't gonna be easy finding a sustainable job out here," he grumbled. "Ex-wife has the whole town convinced that somehow this divorce was my fault. Now people just look at me like I'm the spawn of the devil."
That was putting it mildly. He hadn't even been able to leave the apartment without someone stopping him to ask why he'd done what he did. Apparently, everyone thought he was sleeping around with other women when the roles were entirely reversed. He tried pushing the uneasy thoughts aside, realizing that dwelling on them wouldn't get him anywhere. Then he thought about what Emily had said the other morning.
"Didn't you say you had another assignment to go to?" he asked warily.
"I do, actually," she replied with a shrug. Once again, guilt stabbed him in the chest when he realized he was holding her back. "I wouldn't worry too much about it… to be honest, I'm kind of waiting until the last minute to go."
McCoy looked at her in surprise. He'd known Emily to be one of the most studious people he knew. She hated being late for anything, and for a good reason. Something was clearly on her mind, and he had a feeling his problems were the least of her worries.
"Where'd they assign you to?" he pressed, suddenly feeling curious.
There were plenty of times he'd found himself wishing he joined the agency she was part of. It would've made their lives a whole lot easier in the end. But McCoy knew where his heart lay, and that certainly wasn't out on the field where she spent most of her time. She made a face and looked at nothing in particular.
"They want me to enlist in Starfleet," she muttered. His eyes went wide with disbelief as he heard the bitterness in her voice. "According to the boss, I'm the most qualified agent there is for this mission. Apparently, no one else in the agency has knowledge on Starfleet like I do."
For a moment, McCoy wasn't sure how to react as realization dawned on him. They rarely spoke of Starfleet unless something happened on the news. Anytime it was brought up, she would shrink away from the subject and try to change it. He'd known going into this mess that she was linked to the Kelvin incident. Whenever the name was brought up she would always suffer from some kind of panic attack. The first time he'd seen a panic attack had been terrifying. But after figuring out what led to them and why they occurred, he had a better understanding of how to handle them.
"That explains a thing or two," he rolled his eyes knowingly. Emily did the same, though hers was more forced than anything else. "I'm surprised you agreed to do it, all things considered."
"It's not like I don't have any other choice," she shrugged it off. "I probably wouldn't be here if it wasn't for the agency… I owe them that much."
His brows furrowed together when he realized that he too had the agency to thank if that was the case. They never would've met. And the moment his eyes met hers again, he knew he had no regret agreeing to see her again all those years ago.
"Maybe it's time I returned the favor," he muttered under his breath. Emily rose an eyebrow as she looked at him incredulously, and McCoy let out a heavy sigh. He hated the idea of enlisting in Starfleet. He hated shuttles. He hated Starships. But if it meant returning the favor, he'd put himself through hell and back to make things right again. "What if you had a partner of sorts?"
If it wasn't for the fact that they were sitting, he was pretty sure she would have rolled on the floor and laughed at his expense. McCoy just rolled his eyes again as she stifled a fit of laughter.
"Are you really considering enlisting in Starfleet for my sake?" she asked curiously.
Not for the first time, McCoy considered his options. He knew going back home wasn't an option now. If he wanted to get a decent job, then enlisting in Starfleet might be his only option in the long-run. Besides, it would mean spending more time with her.
"Do you really need a second opinion?" was all he countered with.
He knew it wouldn't be easy having to endure all the classes that were offered at Starfleet Academy. But seeing as he already had his MD and his PHD, he was one step ahead of the other Cadets. To top things off, it meant getting away from his ex-wife and the town she'd taken over. He planned on pulling off this stunt, regardless of whether or not she agreed with him. Yet, one smirk was all it took for him to realize that she was fully on board with it.