The morning arrived sooner than anticipated. McCoy, no Leonard, (I am Doctor Leonard McCoy, damn it!) hadn't the chance to properly appreciate his bed nor his deep, dreamless sleep before he stirred awake unwillingly. The reason he was so rudely woken up at the crack of the dawn was not because of his body clock warning him about the upcoming day nor was it a gentle beam of sunlight gently bathing him with warmth. No, it turns out those would be too normal. No, he had to be wake up to the sound of his own god damn name being chanted to him, over and over again while being accompanied by an insistently annoying, constant knocking on his cabin door.
He tried to ignore the sounds, he really did. He was a poor man who hadn't hurt anyone to deserve such a punishment. He had no god damn reason to open his damned eyes. The chanting continued regardless with a newly found ambition. So much so that Leonard considered giving his name up once again, if only it meant the son of a bitch at the door would shut up. Of course, Leonard willing it away wouldn't break their spirit; if they were awake out of their own accords at this time of the day, then they probably didn't have a soul that could be bartered with.
Begrudgingly, he realised that he was not a morning person at all. Cursing at his bad luck, he got off the bed and opened the door, if only to yell at the person on the other side of it. The wonder of wonders, it was Jim... With his goofy, radiant smile, bright eyes, properly pressed ensemble, well-combed beard and hair. Jim, who had the audacity to stand before him, expecting a warm welcome from the dishevelled doctor who still clutched his pillow.
McCoy shut the door back and threw himself back onto his bed. He might have heard a yelp or it might have been a product of his dreamland, he didn't know, he didn't care. All he wanted to do was to sleep. It was simply too early to exist.
Jim disagreed and took his hostility as a challenge. He let himself into the cabin despite McCoy's half-hearted protests. "Go away!" he garbled into his pillow, "Can't you get a hint?"
"You are so not a morning person, Leonard," he heard glass clinking and a deep, almost worn-out sigh.
"You think, genius?" he replied, desperately ignoring a beautiful scent which was filling the room.
"I've missed your grumpiness first thing in the morning," came the mumbled response and Leonard blinked, wishing himself into awakeness "So, I brought you coffee. You need it. You know, I thought I would be a nice, responsible Captain and apologise to you face-to-face for slightly deviating from the truth, yesterday."
Leonard pulled himself up to a sitting position and eyed the coffee on top of the table. As he made grabby hands towards the hot drink, Jim indulged him and passed him the cup obediently. His hands lingered a bit too long over Leonard's, making sure his hold on the cup was steady or at least masking it with that excuse, but either way Len wasn't in any position to notice it.
After a few sips and a drawn out sigh later, McCoy opened his eyes properly and regarded the Captain once more. He was sitting relaxed and sprawled all over Leonard's sofa. He came to the conclusion that If there was another door between them, he would gladly smack the door on him again. Then again, coffee. It was a nice gesture of him. He could forgive Jim and at least hear out his apology just for that.
"Two things," he started and pinched the bridge of his nose "First, what do you mean face-to-face? It's not like you can send a telegraph to my room over night. Secondly, slightly deviating from the truth? Why don't you call it what it is, blatantly lying! Oh, and a third thing, you wanna apologise; come back in six hours."
"I can't," Jim replied with an amused face, "I'll have my next shift then and one cannot simply go up to the Bridge untimely where Uhura spends most of her time without running the risk of becoming fish chum."
"Are they all so bossy and terrifying?"
"What, my crew? My good man, you have not met the worse one yet!" Jim smiled fondly and Leonard found himself wanting to be a part of that crew if only it meant that Jim would smile brightly when he thought about Len too.
"Isn't it odd at this time and age to be ordered around by a woman, your own lieutenant no less?" McCoy asked while yawning.
"Is that what you really believe?" Jim snapped suddenly and Leonard raised his gaze to meet his.
"That's what everyone is saying, kid but what do I know? I am not even capable of dreaming without mixing it up with reality."
"Then, I suggest you start thinking for yourself, Dr McCoy," Jim replied in a dignified manner and McCoy was too taken aback with his change in demeanour and perhaps even ashamed of his own assumptions that he replied instantly.
"As you say, Captain."
"Since we are on agreeing term," Jim began with much more enthusiasm than a second ago "Allow me to escort you to breakfast. You can tell me all about your weird dreams and regained memories."
"How did you know I did?" McCoy asked as he gave up on his much-needed sleep and moved toward the basin to wash his face.
"You'll be surprised as to how" was all Jim had to say about it. Leonard shook his head exasperatedly, sending water droplets from his hair across the room. He was being additionally dramatic because of the lack of sleep rather than annoyance with Jim. Hell, he even thought that it was kind of nice to have someone look after him, shower him with morning coffee and deal with his morning personality, which was feared by most, expertly. He didn't say he liked Jim per se but it definitely was a nice change to interact with someone other than Ron.
A bunch of clothes were shoved into his arms, as he closed his eyes tiredly, lost in his thoughts. His hold on the clothes was slack but Jim was standing right in front of him, while his left hand was keeping the garments steady and the other one was gently removing Leonard's wet hair from his forehead. He felt his shoulder relax, ready to curl around the warm body before him. Instead of acting on his impulses, though, he simply chose to remain on his spot, letting Jim do what he wanted. It was an intimate moment, Leonard realised but did nothing to stop Jim from caressing the side of his hair. The movement was familiar, it felt right and he blamed his half asleep brain for that, too.
A moment too soon, Jim retracted his hands. Leonard found himself opening his eyes, despite wanting to continue the dream. The captain stood by the door and spoke loudly "There you go, doctor. It's a beautiful day to be up and about and it's the best kind of open waters a captain could ever hope to sail on. It'll be a waste to sleep it away."
McCoy nodded towards him. Both of them pointedly ignored the over-friendly moment they just shared and Leonard focused solely on putting his shirt on as Jim counted the scratches on the cabin door.
,,,,
The journey to the saloon was less awkward than the weird atmosphere in his cabin. Leonard was actually grateful for every single passenger who stopped and greeted the captain on their way to their seats. Breakfast itself turned out to be a fantastic idea when he was presented with a plate filled with scrambled eggs on toast, roast beef and griddle cakes served alongside a large cup of black coffee which in his humble opinion was the best part of any course.
Jim was quite pleased with his given meal as well, having been served smoked red herring. Although Leonard was almost certain that the Captain was not meant to be eating every meal alongside his passengers, instead of with his crew, he wasn't going to mention it anytime soon. Neither would their group that they were sharing their table with. The people who were at the dinner were again in their spots during the breakfast and Leonard recognised some of the familiar faces from the night before. Some of the others were absent but were replaced with new friends which he was introduced to. He wasn't going to remember their names either so, he kindly nodded at them and observed Jim from the corner of his eye.
The Captain was hurriedly explaining something about the ship to a curious elderly man. Leonard didn't understand a lick of what Jim said but his smile was contagious. He was practically glowing in the morning light. Soon, everyone on the table was mirroring his pleasant smile and intently listening to him. Even Leonard couldn't help but be captivated by him. Eventually though, even Jim had to rest his throat muscles. Once the silence ruled over their table, everyone was able to finish up their meals.
"Well, this has gone cold," Jim poked the remains of his fish with his fork and made a face. They were one of the few ones left in the saloon as everyone had already gone out to the deck to enjoy the rarely seen sun.
"That's what happens when you neglect your food." Leonard pointed out the obvious. He then proceeded to look at anything but Jim and his endearing pouting face. "Nine days more of this view and people, hm?" he mumbled.
"More or less. If spent with a desirable companion, I can assure you that it'll feel a lot less like a choir and more like a vacation," Jim said while pushing away his offending plate.
"Would that desirable companion be you, Captain?" Leonard asked because why not.
"If you wish," was the shy reply he received and honestly, he wasn't prepared to witness the blush spreading across Jim's neck nor the shine in Jim's eyes that he couldn't seem to decipher the meaning of.
,,,,
McCoy would never admit it out loud but he almost missed Jim's presence in the afternoon. He, of course, knew exactly where to find the Captain and the itch persisted for him to go to Bridge every time he was left alone with his thoughts. He was more resilient than he gave himself credit for and he managed to keep himself busy when his mind took a dangerous turn in the labyrinth that was his scattered memories. He visited his cabin, put on a vest and a cravat, somehow alienating himself further from his dreams he had while he was awake. He lurked around, discovered the magnificent books hidden away in the library. The significant increase in the number of people who acknowledged and greeted him as he stalked the decks, also helped and he couldn't find it in him to irritated by anyone of them. He blamed Jim for it.
As a man used to solitude, it got a bit scary when he noticed that he was grateful to be called into join a poker game in the middle of the game room, complete with whisky servings and small plates of fancy food which Leonard was sure he had never tasted before in his life. He didn't even notice the way the ship shook with an oncoming storm and enjoyed a fine game with people he barely knew but was not above collecting their cash. Who would have guessed, Dr McCoy was savage when it came to card games, reading people and sweeping the floor with their mock tears.
That's how Jim found the doctor early in the evening. Joyful, a little bit drunk and having the time of his life (at least the time of his life in the last year). The captain's shift wasn't done yet but when he heard the whispers of one of this crew about how the passengers and some of the crew were getting in line to try their luck against McCoy's, he could not help himself. He had to come down and see the miraculous event with his own eyes. And, there he was, a cigar propped on the ashtray by his side, the first two buttons of his shirt undone but the rest firmly tucked away in his waistcoat and that finely trimmed beard untouched by grey was all in that scene Jim could have ever ask to witness.
It took him a split second more to decide on his next act and make a move towards the crowd around Leonard, only to be stopped by a strong hand on his elbow. Instantly he was pulled out of the room and was forced to walk away from his target.
"Not again, Spock! You have got to stop this, man" he hissed at his first officer 's face. They abruptly came to a halt around the next corner and Jim crossed his arms, expecting an explanation from him.
"As you well know, Captain, you are on duty and you should act accordingly if you wish to remain undercover for the duration of our voyage," he said monotonously and Jim rolled his eyes at him.
"I am perfectly aware, Mr Spock but there is no harm done in enjoying it, now is there?"
"Perhaps not for you," Spock started without batting an eyelid "Yet, forcing Dr McCoy's memories to the surface may have adverse and irreversible effects on the good doctor. His mind is in a fragile state. I suggest we follow our schedule and allow him time to heal. You shouldn't aggravate his condition more in the mean time and remain vigilant. Now, more than ever."
"You are right, Spock," Jim swallowed hard, of course, Spock was right. Jim was being a selfish bastard, hoping and forcing a memory out of McCoy when he clearly had a difficult time remembering anything. Not to mention that he was probably believing that he was going mad rather than regaining his memories of a ship flying in outer space and what not. Jim felt the need to hit his head on a nearby wall at his stupidity. He refrained from actually doing so instead, he raked his fingers through his hair, sighing resignedly.
"It's just that," he started and turned to Spock "he is right there, you know! He sees me, knows who I am but he doesn't recognise me at all! It's frustrating not just to be forgotten but also be ignored. Our relationship has gone back to what it was in the first year of our Academy and it is actually worse. Because I know everything we are when we are together and everything more we can be but he isn't even allowed to think of the possibilities because the people in this era are dipshits who take pleasure in condemning love!
"Seeing him but not being able to touch. Fearing that he will flip out on me if I do one thing out of order in this fucking primitive age. It's eating me alive to see him smile more when I am not there as opposed to when I am with him. Subconsciously or not he seems so pleased and relaxed and I am sick with worry that his brain is going short circuit and he is going to end up having a seizure. If this is what he feels like every time I do stupid shit, then no wonder he is a nervous wreck most of the time! God, do you understand what I feel, Spock?"
"I understand that you feel frustrated at Dr McCoy and his inability to remember and therefore care for the real you. If you are asking whether I comprehend the feeling you are having at this, then the answer is no." Jim huffed and leant back on the near wall. What was he expecting? It was impossible to get his point across.
"Yet," Spock began again "I find myself puzzled with your frustration more, Jim. It is not the doctor's fault that caused his mind to have such an affliction. From what I observed, he is hurt and confused. I assumed in the face of this, you would have acted with more care."
A pang of guilt hit Jim hard and he followed on his earlier suggestion. Resting his forehead on the cool surface, he closed his eyes and draw strength from simply truths; like when Bones leant his head towards his touch without flinching or how Spock was able to remain calm when he was ready to lose his shit. He recalled Uhura's kind, dependable touch on his shoulders and Scotty's promise. He reminded himself how everyone in the Enterprise was willing to join him in order to bring their grumpy CMO back with no complaints nor hesitation.
"I just miss him so much, Spock," he whispered brokenly. The hand between his shoulder blades provided more comfort than he would ever need.
"That feeling, Captain, I am familiar with."