This can be read as TOS or AOS. :) Enjoy!
The cough had become a constant, a normalcy Leonard had found easy to ignore with time. He hadn't realized just how long it had plagued him until Spock pointed it out—bless his heart.
Twenty-seven days… and four hours and a quarter.
"Why, Spock, you do care."
The sarcastic jab had been his ticket back to work, sending the first officer on his way with only an added, "You are the physician here. If anyone should know when to get themselves 'checked out,' it's you, Doctor."
Right. Thanks, Spock. I hadn't noticed.
Looking back, maybe he should've listened to the hobgoblin…
"It's just allergies." That had been the first lie, told mainly to himself. Jim just happened to be the one who'd asked about it. "That last M-Class felt like Georgia in the fall. Don't worry about it."
Needless to say, Jim had worried about it, until Christine Chapel made the call that it was, in fact, a virus. A "common cold," Leonard preferred to call it.
A cold that had passed mercifully quickly, leaving only that lingering cough.
By the second week, his muscles began their painful protest against his constant need to clear his throat.
A minor inconvenience.
"Believe me, Jim, I'm a doctor. I think I know the difference between a little lingering cough and something more severe when I hear it."
That had been the second lie.
The third and final lie came when he managed to convince himself and his team that he was fit enough to handle what was perhaps medbay's busiest day of the month.
6:30 to 23:30: nonstop movement from one station to another. Four surgeries, a multitude of physicals, a medical staff meeting, and a handful of odds and ends that needed seeing to. Leonard recalled a lunch in there somewhere between the endless cups of coffee. The sporadic twists of his stomach served as a cruel reminder that coffee and his digestive system didn't mix well. Never had. But he needed to get through the day somehow.
By the time he collapsed in his bed, his body wouldn't stop shaking. Trying to make up its mind between being too hot and too cold, it prompted Leonard to pull himself up and make the short trek to his cabinet for some painkillers… maybe even an antibiotic. Something.
He should've knocked himself out with a sedative while he had the chance.
An hour of restless sleep later found him stumbling to the bathroom. The medicine he'd tried to feed himself got promptly rejected by his stomach. That's fine… He rubbed at his eyes, choosing to ignore the umpteenth shiver that wracked his frame. I just love sleeping on the bathroom floor, anyway.
Any minute now, he expected Spotty to barge through the door. After all, what was the use in sharing a bathroom if your roomie didn't ignore your personal space when you couldn't even pull yourself upright?
Some part of his brain conveniently reminded him that Scotty and Keenser had opted to camp out down in engineering for the last few days. Some stupid project or something…
Leonard grimaced, clutching his stomach as if the coil of his arm could squeeze away the pain.
What kind of idiot sleeps where they work? His brain also conveniently blurred out the image of that couch he'd had moved into his office in medbay not too long ago.
Maybe he should… should get someone. Or something.
Who?
Who cares?
Just someone.
But he was so tired…
… Wake up.
He'd fallen asleep. Somehow, he'd fallen back to sleep and had to get back up. His alarm… Had it gone off yet?
Only, it wasn't a soft pillow that cushioned his head, rather, the hard tiles of the bathroom.
Right.
It was definitely time to get someone.
Or at least get out of the bathroom. Maybe then, he could breathe better.
Chris. He could call Christine, but—no.
She's so exhausted. Long day.
Tell me about it.
By some miracle, he managed to stumble out into the hall, and yet, the exhaustion didn't let him get too much further.
So tired.
Just take a break. Just take a secon—
"Bones?"
His eyes snapped open. Alarm. Did his alarm go off yet? He needed to get up, needed to get to work, to start the day, and—
"Hey, hey! Just hold it for a second, okay?"
Leonard blinked, forcing his vision to clear. "Jim, what—?"
"Hey, just take it easy." Jim's voice had crossed the border between soothing and scary, and the overly gentle tone set off every emergency alert system in Leonard's brain.
"Don't…" he managed, pushing himself up despite Jim's protests. "Don't get Chris. She's… tired, she's…" He shook his head.
He needed to get back to bed.
Even though he was certain his legs had turned to jello ages ago, he stumbled back to his room. To his blessed, blessed bed.
"Bones, wait a second…"
So close.
It was so close.
Just a few more feet…
"Hey, Bones, stop!"
He wanted to listen—should've listened, but he had… had to get back to his bed.
Gosh, he was so exhausted…
… Wake up.
This time, his eyes locked with Jim's the second they opened. His friend gazed down at him through the dark.
"Bones, I swear…" The rest of the sentence turned into a muttered curse as the soft tone returned.
He was beginning to hate that tone.
"Just lay on your back for a few minutes, okay?" He felt Jim turn him off his side until his gaze landed on the ceiling.
In the corner of his vision, his bed stood a mere three feet away.
Honestly, he was surprised he'd made it so far, what with the way the fatigue wouldn't stop gnawing at his brain.
"Just take it easy for a second, Bones. Okay?"
He forced a small nod. "Don't wake Chris. She's been working so hard… I'm fine, Jim."
"To borrow one of your own phrases, Doctor." That was Spock, wasn't it…? When did he…? "'The hell, you are.'"
He wanted to laugh. Wanted to smile at how odd the phrase sounded coming from the Vulcan, but whatever chuckle he'd been trying to manage turned into a string of coughs.
That's just typical.
"All right," he groaned a few seconds after the coughing subsided, "what happened?"
"It would appear you fainted," Spock informed him.
Ah.
So that wasn't just falling asleep.
Huh.
"Did you consume any alcohol?"
Leonard flashed the Vulcan a glare. "Of course, not. Do I sound drunk to you?"
Jim sucked in a breath. "Damn it, Bones! You passed out three times!"
"Four," Leonard corrected, nodding towards the bathroom as he tried to pull his hands away from his shirt collar. Why wouldn't he stop sweating? "Once in there."
"That's even worse!"
"Well, I didn't say it was better." Though it took him a moment, he organized his thoughts enough to give a brief explanation of what happened. How he felt. His current symptoms. All the while, Leonard was aware of the way he paused every so often, searching for a distant word that should've been there, should've been readily available but wasn't.
Why?
Because you passed out, dimwit.
Jim nodded the whole time, never moving his hand from its gentle grip on Leonard's shoulder. "Do you think you can stand long enough to climb into bed?"
"Do you?"
Jim pursed his lips at this.
"Sorry… Just… give me a minute. I'll be fine. I just need to catch my breath." He glanced up at Jim. "I'm coherent, right?"
"Most assuredly," Spock answered, and damned if Leonard didn't see the ghost of a smirk tugging at the Vulcan's lips. "In fact, you took three times longer than necessary to inform us about your condition."
Right. "Sorry 'bout that."
Now it was Jim's turn to smirk, a slight break in his mask of anxiety. "You have sorta been monologuing this whole time."
Great.
"There's…" Leonard forced his hand off his chest long enough to point at one of his cabinets. "A hypo's in there that should stabilize… stabilize… Well, you know."
Without hesitation, Spock rose to get it, leaving Jim's hands to prod around Leonard's neck and forehead.
For the life of him, he couldn't summon enough energy to make his friend stop.
"You're definitely clammy."
"Really?" Maybe the sarcastic bite was unnecessary… "Well, do you wanna share your diagnosis? Or are you gonna let the actual doctor do that?"
"All right," Jim began just as Spock knelt back down, hypo in hand. Leonard made a grab for it, but Spock was too quick, holding it just out of reach until the right time came to pounce. "What do you think is wrong with you? And if you say allergies, I'll say bull, and then I'll scream."
A heavy sigh flew from his lips. "Fever, lingering cough, fatigue, and aches? We're looking at acute bronchitis."
And that was the first truth, the one that opened the floodgates for all the rest that the lies had stuffed deep below the surface.
Jim furrowed his brows. "Made worse by you working yourself half to death today."
"Bronchitis can cause blackouts, in some cases. Give me that hypo Spock—agh!"
Turns out that was the right time to pounce. He should've seen it coming, in all honesty.
"Then," Jim began, his anxiety-ridden gaze flicking over to the door, "we should get you medbay."
"Don't bother. There isn't anything that can really cure bronchitis. Just…" Rest, damn it. "It'd be foolish to make a fuss. Help me sit up, will you?"
A silent nod matched the silent hands that slowly eased his head off the ground.
Good… Just… Just stay there for a sec, McCoy. You're good. Don't… Don't…
"Just…?" Jim prompted.
"Just…" Leonard shook his head, the cold chill of sleep clenching his body once more. "Just help me lay back down, will you? Just… Yeah, that's it… Just—" A strangled cough stole his breath away and somehow, he ended up with his head pillowed on Jim's knees. "Sorry, just… Sorry."
"Stop apologizing. That's an order, okay?"
Leonard let his eyes flutter shut. No use in trying to resist sleep. He'd already proven he wasn't strong enough anyway. "Sure, Jim…"
"The captain's right. Apologizing for something you cannot control is illogical."
"Right. How'd… How'd I ever guess you were gonna say that?" He clutched at his chest, willing the rising cough to go away. No such luck. Of course.
"All right." He could barely hear Jim's voice over the coughing fit. "That's it."
As the fit subsided—finally—he felt arms heft him off the floor. In one smooth motion, Spock eased him onto the bed.
"You said there's no cure." That was Jim now. If they would all just stop talking, that would be great. Maybe then, he could sleep… "Except one thing, right? I'm going to take a guess that it's rest."
Leonard made a face. "I was afraid you were gonna catch on."
Jim said something else, maybe to him, maybe to Spock. Who knows? And who cares? Sleep still clawed at him, though not like before. This time, if he closed his eyes, it felt like he might actually wake up the next day.
Something startled him awake halfway through the night, probably his own body rebelling against him still.
Jim lay passed out atop the covers on the opposite side of the bed, and Spock… The Vulcan wouldn't stop staring at him.
Leonard blinked, trying to banish some of the sleep from his eyes. "You know how creepy that is, havin' someone watch you while you sleep?"
"Someone has to keep watch while you rest, just as a precaution. Considering Vulcans require less sleep than humans, I took over for the captain some time ago."
"Willingly?" Leonard couldn't help but smirk at the snoring man beside him. "Or did he fall asleep on you?"
"No one 'fell asleep on me,' Doctor, however, you could say that I did nothing to prevent him from succumbing to fatigue."
Leonard waved a dismissive hand at Spock, knowing his correction of 'human expressions' was mainly for show now. He knew damn well what I meant.
"All right." He sighed, allowing his eyes to close once more before mumbling, "Thanks, Spock."
He could almost hear the surprise radiating off the first officer at the unexpected comment. And Leonard supposed it was unexpected, considering the somewhat turbulent nature of their relationship.
Silence settled over the room, typical.
Yet, just as he felt himself drifting back into the darkness, he heard a quiet, "You're welcome, Leonard."
And didn't that just beat everything?