Forty Seven

The vaccine was ready.

It had taken exactly two months, endless sleepless nights, and Leonard was sure he needed glasses from the amount of time he'd been spending squinting at screens, but it was done. And now, when all he wanted to do was get some sleep, and possibly spend an evening with his girlfriend that didn't involve talking about work, he was instead staring at another screen, reading and re-reading datasets that he had no interest in, all because he had made the mistake of opening Victoria's medical file again.

He had only wanted to make sure her medications were compatible with the planet's atmosphere, and then he was going to close it and move on. There was barely anything in there of interest anyway, except a small green dot next to her name that indicated it had been updated since the last time he had looked at it. Probably a record of one of her numerous ankle sprains or burns, he had thought to himself grimly. He had flicked to the last page, though, just to get rid of the notification.

And then he'd seen it. Written in bold red letters, right at the top for everyone to see, with her signature at the bottom.

DNR – DO NOT RESSUSITATE

He had thrown his keyboard to the ground and stormed out of his office.

Victoria was sitting in the lab two doors down, idly reading something on the computer. "Hi," she said, barely looking up when he stalked in. "I was just –"

"What the hell is this?" he practically snarled. Victoria jumped at his tone and whirled around, looked bewildered. He threw the PADD onto the table in front of her, and she winced as it knocked over two empty glass test-tubes.

Giving him a look that he knew he would hate himself for later – she almost looked scared – she picked up the PADD slowly and looked at the screen. The red letters reflected in her glasses and seemed to mock him. She bit her lip. "Oh," she said softly. "I didn't realise… I thought you knew about this."

"How could I? You never tell me a damn thing that's important, do you?"

"I didn't know I had to tell you this," said Victoria, her voice still quiet. "I signed it before I got on the ship, when they made Natira Woodville's file." She put the PADD back onto the table and stood up, wrapping her arms around herself defensively. "Why are you yelling at me, Leonard?"

"Because you can't keep doin' this," he hissed. "How many more secrets do you want to keep? We can't take a step forward and ten steps back every other week, Tori."

She winced at the nickname. He wasn't sure why. "I don't understand what the big deal is," said Victoria. The way she was avoiding his eyes told him she knew exactly what the problem was. "Lots of people have them.

"The big deal is that you didn't tell me!"

"You're my doctor, you have access to all my files. It's not my fault you didn't see it before."

"You know that's not what I mean," snapped Leonard. "It isn't just about this time."

Victoria narrowed her eyes. "That's not fair," she said, her voice rising along with his. "I'm talking to my doctor right now, Leo. Not my boyfriend. You can't react like this."

His temper flared. "Don't call me Leo, then. Call me Dr. McCoy. And as your doctor, thanks to this damn DNR, I'm bannin' you from this mission."

Victoria stared at him. "You're not serious," she said, her voice still dangerously quiet. "You can't do that, and you know it."

He did know it. He knew he was letting his emotions get the best of him, and it was ethically wrong. He also knew he was being unfair, because Victoria had worked just as hard on the project as he had, and deserved to see its success. But he couldn't help himself. He was sick of doing the right thing and getting slapped in the face every time. "I don't give a damn. Take it up with the captain."

Victoria stared at him. "Okay," she said, lowering her voice again. "You're overreacting, because you're hurt and you're afraid. Let's both just calm down," her voice was soothing, pacifying. "I know you're upset, okay? I get it. We can talk about this."

Leonard snorted. "Why? Because you know Jim's worse'n me, and he definitely won't let you go planet-side if he knows we aren't allowed to save you if somethin' happens?"

"That isn't what a DNR means. And why would something happen to me on a mission that isn't even dangerous?" demanded Victoria. "You're taking half of Sickbay and less than three security officers! Judas Four is that safe. We can talk about this when we come back, I promise. But I'm going with you, and you can't stop me." Without waiting for his reply, she picked up her PADD and walked out of the lab.

Leonard rested his palms on the table as the doors slid shut behind her, and took a deep breath. "Over my dead body."

!

Jim took Victoria's side.

Leonard was rarely wrong about Jim, but he had completely miscalculated this time. Jim had heard him with a stony face, while Victoria sat next to him with her arms folded across her chest, equally stony-faced and completely silent. Then he calmly asked Victoria to wait outside his office, and when she left he asked Leonard to take her empty seat.

"I hear you," Jim said quietly. "I get it, okay? I love her too." Leonard didn't even bother to correct him. "But this isn't something I can control, Bones."

"Yes, you can," snapped Leonard. "She doesn't need a damn DNR. She won't listen to me because she thinks I'm too emotional about this, but you can talk to her."

"You are too emotional," said Jim calmly. "And I know why, Bones. I know what this is bringing up for you, even if she doesn't." Leonard winced, and Jim caught his expression before he could school it. The captain clapped him on the shoulder comfortingly. "I'm sorry, buddy. I wish I could help you, but this isn't a decision either of us can make."

Leonard stared at him. "No," he said flatly. "No, Jim. You can't do this."

"I wish I could take your side, but we both know there is no reason for her to not go on this mission. A DNR changes nothing," said Jim. "I really am sorry, Bones, I know this is bringing up hell for you, but my decision is final. She has to go, and you can't influence her to get rid of the DNR either. You need to think like a doctor. Her doctor. She's not Tori, the amazing girl that I know you have feelings for, okay? She's Natira Woodville. She's a trained Starfleet officer, she's damn good at her job, and she has a DNR in place if something goes wrong. We, you, cannot change that. I need your word that you won't do something stupid," added Jim, giving him a hard look. "Please, Bones. Don't make this harder on either of you."

Leonard walked out of the office, past Victoria, without a word.

!

"I'm sorry, Dr. McCoy," the nurse sighed. "We have our orders, and this isn't your case. You're here as his family, not his doctor."

"But I am a doctor," Leonard snapped. "Just because my name isn't on the damn file it doesn't mean –"

"I understand your involvement with Dr. Suri's treatment plan, but that's exactly what it means," interrupted the nurse. She didn't sound unkind. If anything, she looked like she pitied him. "I'm very sorry. You're welcome to sit with your father, but your mother has already signed the papers. If he stops breathing, we can't help him. You know that's what a DNR is."

Leonard jerked awake, the glass slipping out of his hands and falling to the carpeted floor with a dull thud. He didn't bother sitting up in bed – it had been his dream, a fragmented glimpse of a memory he was still trying to forget, that had woken him up, not his alarm, which meant he didn't have anywhere to be, not yet. And even when he did, he'd have to see her, and every time he did all he could see was the flashing red of the DNR that she had signed, effectively cutting him off from helping her if things went wrong.

He hated her for it.

!

Victoria didn't speak to Leonard for three days.

It was partially her own fault. She hadn't gone to his quarters after their fight. She wanted to, of course, but Jim had advised her not to. Let him cool off, he'd said, rubbing her arm soothingly. He's just worried. Trust me, I've gotten the silent treatment before. It was good advice, under normal circumstances, if Leonard was simply frustrated with a friend. But they weren't just friends. Which meant she got very little sleep for the two nights she spent alone. She also developed, overnight, a remarkable inclination towards clumsiness. Test tubes fell out of her hands, PADDs landed face-down on the floor, and finally Spock had to ask Homer to recheck her calculations after she spent the better part of the third day making the same mathematical error again and again, without remembering how to fix it.

If Leonard was also having trouble sleeping, he was doing an excellent job of pretending otherwise. He also barely looked at Victoria, despite the fact that they spent every second together, in Sickbay, in the lab, and in conference rooms. But they were never alone, so he still talked to her about work – it was short, succinct, and devoid of any kind of emotion, but at least he spoke. When there was no work to be discussed, he would simply leave the room. Victoria couldn't bring herself to talk him out of it. It wasn't even her fault. He was over-reacting. Even Jim had taken her side. It wasn't her fault.

She was repeating that to herself now, as she entered his office for her last meeting of the day. It was just them, a situation they had seemed to successfully avoid for days thanks to Spock and Julia who, even if they had picked up on the tension between them, hadn't commented on it. But Spock was in a final debrief with Jim, and Julia was treating a patient outside, so Victoria had sucked it up and walked into Leonard's office alone, refusing to feel bad. It wasn't her fault.

So why did she feel like she had done something terrible?

Leonard was sitting at his desk when she walked in, flicking through a PADD. He looked up when the door opened, saw that she was alone, and immediately looked away. It wasn't until she was standing right in front of his desk that he spoke.

"Sit," was all he said.

Victoria bristled at his tone. "I'd rather stand," she said, just as coldly. "Will this take long?"

"No," said Leonard. He put the PADD away and, with his eyes fixed on her left elbow, held out his hand for hers.

Victoria handed it to him. "The projections are –"

"I can read," he interrupted, scanning the pages on the screen.

Victoria felt annoyance flash through her body. "It's my work."

"I know what it's about."

"So I'm just supposed to stand here while you read ten pages?"

"I told you, you can sit."

"What the hell is wrong with you?" she snapped finally. "Are you seriously going to act like a child for the next four days?"

"I don't know what you're talkin' about," Leonard said, still not looking at her. "I'm doin' my job."

"You're in a fight with your girlfriend and letting it affect your work, Leonard, don't even pretend otherwise."

"My work is fine," he said. Still refusing to look at her, he stood up and collected the PADD she had just handed him, as well as his own. "I'm leavin' for the night. I'll make any changes we need and you can look at 'em tomorrow."

Victoria stared at him in shock. He was leaving again? "You're not serious."

Leonard finally looked at her at that, and his eyes were hard. He hadn't looked at her that way in months, not since she had come clean to him about why she was here, and so many other things; right now, he looked like he didn't know her, like he didn't trust her. Victoria hated that feeling, and she hated him for making her feel that way.

"I am serious," he said, his voice flat. "Good night."

Victoria took a deep breath. "Look, I want to talk about –"

"Unless this is about tomorrow's meetin', I don't have time," he cut her off shortly. "Is it?"

It was his tone that finally did it; Victoria had tried to be patient and give him space, and had chalked up Leonard's silent treatment to his tendency to lash out when he was angry. But the condescension in his tone made her hands clench into fists.

"This is about you acting like a petulant child because I did something that caught you off guard," she snapped finally. "I refuse to let your tantrum affect my work. I'm the one breaking things and messing up calculations because my boyfriend is mad at me. You may be able to compartmentalise whatever anger you have, but I can't. So unless you want me to get hurt on this mission so you can teach me a lesson about medical ethics or whatever crap it is that makes you think you're right and I'm wrong, I want a truce, if not an apology for your abysmal behaviour. Now."

Leonard's eyes were hard as he looked at her, barely reacting to her scolding. "Is that what you think?" he asked, his voice rough. "You think I'm sittin' alone every night in my quarters, staring at your damn shoes in the corner and sleeping on your side of the bed, compartmentalising how I feel?"

Victoria faltered. "I didn't mean –"

"I know what you meant, don't backtrack now," he said bitterly. "What, because I ain't breakin' test tubes and doing bad math, you think I don't care? Spock hasn't had to tell me off yet, so I must be fine, is that it?"

"I never said you don't actually care," said Victoria, trying to keep her voice even. "But you're doing a pretty good job of acting like you don't, and that hurts."

"Oh, you want to talk about hurt?" demanded Leonard. "I had to find out about your DNR from your file, Victoria. Christ, I've never refused to answer any of your questions. But it's every damn week with you, and it ain't fair, you know that. What the hell are we doin' being together, then, if it's gonna be like this? It was the same way when you weren't sleepin' with me. At least back then I knew what that was."

"Don't say that," snapped Victoria. "Now you're just being an idiot. How many times do I have to tell you it has nothing to do with you?"

Leonard glared at her, his shoulders rising and falling as he breathed heavily. This was the first time he'd ever yelled at her and meant it, Victoria knew that. She also knew that, on some level, he had a right to be hurt; and he wasn't even aware of half the things she was keeping from him. Maybe that was why the guilt kept niggling at her. Despite her denials, she knew he was partially right. It wasn't fair.

"This ain't just about the damn file," said Leonard finally. He'd stopped yelling, but the anger in his voice was barely concealed, and made Victoria wince as though he had yelled at her. "You can't keep doin' this."

"I'm not doing anything!" Victoria snapped, her tone more defensive than she had intended. "I did it before I had even met you!"

They were going in circles, and they both knew that. Perhaps that was why Leonard barely reacted to her words. The mask of indifference had slipped while he had yelled at her, allowing Victoria to see how upset he actually was; now, he turned away from her again and picked up the PADDs he'd dropped, stacking them into a pile and getting ready to leave. For some reason she couldn't identity, Victoria found that the idea of him walking away from her after another fight made her nervous. Reflexively, she grabbed his arm before he could move away, and he hesitated.

"No," he said quietly, as if in response to her touch, before she could even say anything. "I can't do this again." And his tone wasn't indifferent anymore. His voice was raw, and Victoria was close enough to notice how tired he looked, and how hurt he was. He couldn't even look her in the eye for long.

"What can't you do?" she asked softly. Ignoring his stiff posture, she let go of his arm and touched his face, swiping her thumb across the bags under his eyes. Almost immediately, his face softened, and she inwardly sighed in relief at the progress. "Talk to me, Leo. Please. Is this really all about me?"

But the moment was gone before he could answer her. Victoria had forgotten to lock the door, and no one ever knocked before entering Leonard's office anyway. They heard the doors open before they knew who had come in, and reflexively took a step away from each other. The footsteps entered the room, and then abruptly stopped, their owner no doubt sensing the tension in the air.

"Oh," it was Julia's voice. Victoria turned around and gave the nurse a wan smile, which she tried to return. "I'm sorry. Did I interrupt a meeting?"

"No," said Leonard, answering before Victoria could. "Can this wait, Julia? I'm leavin' for the night."

Julia blinked. "Well, yeah, I suppose –"

Leonard didn't wait for an answer, side-stepping Victoria to leave the room. She touched his arm as he brushed past her, but he didn't stop, and Victoria rubbed a hand over her face in frustration when the door slid shut behind him.

Clearing her throat a little awkwardly, Julia fidgeted with the PADDs in her hands. "Is he okay?"

"No," answered Victoria, suddenly too tired to keep pretending. "He's an idiot."

"When it comes to you? Sure," Julia smiled at her own joke, a little weakly, but Victoria didn't smile back. The nurse looked concerned. "Do you want to talk about it?"

She shouldn't. She knew she shouldn't. But she was tired, and the only person on the ship she could talk to refused to even be in the same room as her. "I have a DNR," blurted out Victoria. "He didn't know. He found out and he – he tried to ban me from the mission. Jim wouldn't let him."

"Oh," said Julia. She turned again to stare at the closed office door, and then sighed. "Idiot," she muttered. She beckoned to Victoria and practically forced her to sit down on the sofa in the corner, taking a seat next to her. "This isn't about you," she said, when Victoria gave her a helpless look. "I promise," she added, when Victoria snorted. "I know he likes you, but this isn't about you. This is about the DNR. But not your DNR."

Victoria blinked. "I don't follow."

Julia sighed. "Just… talk to him. Don't give him space."

"But Jim said –"

"Jim only said that because he's pretending to be blind about how much Leonard likes you, and how much you like him," said Julia, a little bluntly, and Victoria bit her lip. The nurse offered her a small smile. "Look, some people need space, to sort out their feelings and deal with their messy emotions on their own. Leonard doesn't. He needs someone to yell at him and make him talk about it. So just… do it. He's done the same for you before, hasn't he?"

He had. And he'd been more patient than Victoria had ever deserved.