Thank you everyone for your reviews! This chapter was difficult to write, so I tried to take some from personal experience. Please leave a review if you are interested in doing so! Vulcan translations are at the bottom.
It was impossible to avoid him.
Leonard hadn't noticed that over the last few weeks he had gravitated toward Spock, trying to be near him on every mission, making extra trips to the bridge just to see him, starting up even more pointless arguments just for the interaction. Maybe he just hadn't been able to admit it before, but it was surprising how often he had really put effort into seeing the green-blooded bastard. And now that he was trying to avoid him at all costs, it was proving to be much more difficult than he'd anticipated.
Every time he was called to the bridge, Leonard knew he was going to be stuck in a spiral. Part of him was desperate to see Spock, to see if his greeting was any warmer or to make sure the Vulcan wasn't ignoring him altogether. Another part of him wanted to stay as far away as possible. He hadn't felt this way since he'd had a crush on a girl in high school. The thought of it was more shameful than he cared to admit. He didn't know what to do with himself.
"Bones." Jim's voice over the intercom stopped his pacing and he stared, eyebrow up, at the little red box on the wall. After a moment of thought, Leonard darted across Sickbay and hit the button to reply. "Uh..McCoy here."
"Bones, why aren't you up here? We are waiting for you to start the briefing."
Leonard blinked at the com and sighed. He couldn't shirk his responsibilities as CMO because of a stupid crush. He was being beyond ridiculous. "I'll be right up, Jim," he said, slamming a fist onto the tiny white button. He would be damned if this stupid situation was his downfall.
He glanced at his arm which was nearly healed. The incident had taken place four days prior, and Leonard hadn't seen Spock face to face since. The doctor had almost been able to convince himself that it was a simple mistake he'd made while he was drunk, but the little nagging of logic in the back of his mind constantly reminded him that it wasn't the case. Spock had been right; the incident was not just a bit too much to drink. The drinking was just a small part of the overall problem that Leonard was determined to avoid. And now he was called to the bridge and he had to sit in that briefing room and stare at that smug green face for an hour knowing that he was judging him so harshly and…
Thinking about it gave him a sinking feeling in his stomach and a familiar bout of nausea was creeping up on him. His heart started to pound faster. Oh no. He darted over to a mirror and looked at himself. What was this? He was covered in sweat, his heart was racing, his breathing was getting more and more shallow, and he felt as though the room was spinning out of control. He threw himself to the nearest work station and started to dig for a hypo that would slow his heart rate. How could this be happening? He hadn't had a panic attack since…the first time he used a transporter nearly five years ago.
Leonard stuck the hypo in his arm and grabbed onto the counter tightly with both hands, forcing himself to take deep breaths despite his body's determination for short frantic ones. In a few seconds, the hypo kicked in, and he was calming down again. This couldn't be happening.
Blue eyes blinked at him from inside the mirror, but he didn't recognize them. How could he be so weak? He was falling apart in every way possible and… When his heart started racing again he shoved those thoughts out of his mind. This was no time for a mental breakdown. He had places to be.
A minute later he was marching down the hall toward the turbo lift. All this business of mental weakness…he was Leonard H fucking McCoy, damn it. It was his responsibility to take care of the ship, not to have people needing to care for him. He was going to nip this thing in the bud before it took over his life.
And as he turned into the lift with a gruff, "Deck 12," he realized, with a sinking feeling, that he had sworn he'd do the exact same thing nearly two months ago.
In the briefing room, Leonard felt a little more at home. Things were all business up there. No one would be able to question him about his recent absence or his arm, which was covered by his long sleeved uniform as opposed to the short sleeved tunic he usually wore. With a polite nod to Scotty and Uhura, he made his way past them to his seat, next to Jim, and across from Spock.
Seeing the green bastard took any comfort that he was clinging to and had it dissipate in an instant. Spock didn't look up as Leonard entered the room, nor did he address him as he joined the crew at the table. Jim flashed him a charming smile, which Leonard did not return, and they began the briefing.
Whatever they were talking about, Leonard didn't give one single shit. Spock was leaning casually in his chair, one arm on his lap, the other on the table, long, delicate fingers twisting a stylus through them. After about two minutes of brooding and keeping his gaze on the table in front of him, those tired, blue eyes were focused on those fingers so intently an anti-matter combustion couldn't buy his attention. Those fingers were a prize. They were perfect, pristine, and the fastest gateway into Spock's soul and mind. It just wasn't fair that the only time they touched him he was passed out on the floor.
Leonard would be lying if he'd said he didn't think about everything that had happened that night. Though he wasn't conscious for any of it, Spock had come in, lifted Leonard off the floor, undressed him, dug through his drawers, found more clothing, washed him down with a towel that Leonard had later found in the bathroom, and then redressed him. If he had been conscious, there would have been no chance of his surviving about a minute of that activity without something horribly embarrassing happened. If it had gone his way, he would have been awake, and Spock would have been more than alright with something embarrassing...
"Bones!"
Leonard's attention was yanked back into the conversation so suddenly that he nearly jumped out of his chair.
"Are you alright? You look…tired."
The doctor shook his head as the shock of Jim's voice wore off. Glancing around the room he saw Scotty and Uhura looking at him with concern and Spock looking with…a surprising amount of interest.
"Tired…yea I'm just tired." He stood up, grumbling to himself. He muttered some words of apology and excused himself from the table without looking back at anyone else.
Maybe he was just too old for this shit. What the hell was he thinking sitting there fanaticizing about this damn pointy-eared goblin who he didn't even like? Maybe he was just too old and unstable to be taking care of himself and an entire four-hundred plus crew of reckless Starfleet officers. He stomped through the corridors and back into Sickbay, ignoring the worried, mother-hen stares from Nurse Chapel and locking himself immediately in his office. He sat on the chair with a groan and covered his face in his hands. With a deep breath, he slid low into his seat so his head was touching the back of his chair. He looked over to his desk where the picture of the curly-haired girl sat. Carefully, he picked it up.
"Oh, Joanna," he drawled, his voice staying very low. "I'm glad you can't see your daddy now." She would have been ashamed of him, if she could even recognize him. Her daddy had always been kind and brave and…all those other dreams babies had of their daddies. All those things she told him when she was young. He snickered at her photo, tears welling up behind his eyes. He would deny it though, every compliment she threw at him, and she'd always argue, saying she knew best and all that. "You sure do, baby girl," he muttered, putting the picture back down.
Suddenly, the door slid open and Leonard was more than shocked to see a rather tall, perfect-postured individual in the doorway.
"Spock, what are you doin' here?" He quickly wiped any remnants of tears from his eyes. How dare he walk in there like nothing was going on? After ignoring him for days and not giving one damn about-
"Doctor, I wish to speak to you about your condition." Without waiting for an answer, he stepped inside. The door slid shut behind him and he gave a command for it to lock.
"Now hold on just a minute!" Leonard choked as he jumped from his seat. "You cannot just march in here and take over my office!"
"I have no intention of doing so, Doctor, I just meant to give us a little privacy. Please, sit down."
Leonard opened his mouth to argue again, but he noticed that Spock's posture, though perfect as ever, was not his usual professional stance. He was being polite, as Vulcan's were trained to be, but his body language was deliberately choreographed to make sure Leonard was comfortable.
Surprising himself, Leonard sat down behind his desk. Spock took a seat opposite him and crossed one leg over the other. His perfect fingers folded together. Leonard's stare lingered.
"I have not had a proper chance to speak to you after our last encounter. It has been difficult due to our recent assignment and your constant effort to avoid me."
Leonard's eyes went wide. Could he just say something like that? Was that allowed?
"I wasn't-"
"Please do not attempt to lie to me, Doctor, I am well aware that you have been attempting to stay as far away from me as possible. You have been successful thus far, however I could not help but take notice of you during our meeting."
"Take notice of me? You ignored me completely!" Leonard gulped down his anger. He hadn't wanted to mention that. He wasn't supposed to care if Spock noticed him or not.
"That is not true. I was simply attempting to keep the atmosphere in the room as casual as possible so as not to disturb the other members of the crew."
Leonard shook his head, ripping his eyes away from his superior officer. In his dreams, Spock had come to him to comfort him and Leonard had spilled his guts, confessed everything and they had held one another and everything ended happily ever after.
Fat fucking chance.
"Listen, Spock, I appreciate the effort, but there's no need for us to talk. I was just going through a rough patch. I'm fine now." The exhaustion in his voice was obvious. His usually toned voice was thick and polluted with southern drawl and he cleared his throat harshly when the thought was finished. Spock waited calmly for him to quiet down before starting in on the last lecture Leonard ever wanted to hear.
"Doctor McCoy, you are depressed. You have a severe chemical imbalance in the brain and are dealing with emotional and mental responses that you are not fit to handle. In addition, signs of high anxiety and potential panic have been noted by both Nurse Chapel and myself. Seeing as you have now resolved to self-harm in order to deal with your emotional outbursts, I am declaring you unfit to see to your own health and take the responsibility of your mental well-being into my own hands."
For a moment, the office was so silent Leonard had thought he'd gone deaf. He blinked at Spock, his jaw slack, eyes sparkling on the verge of tears. This…was not fair. It just wasn't fair. Spock had no right, no damn right to come into his office and remove him from his medical post. He couldn't waltz into his life and tell him what to do. He couldn't tell him what illnesses he had, he was the goddamn doctor, not some fucking green-blooded, inconsiderate, good for nothing, god-ego, son of a bitch.
Leonard felt his face growing hot with anger. He wanted Spock to go. He needed to be alone and…God he couldn't feel anything but anger and see anything but red with a blur of pale green in his line of vision. He stood suddenly, his legs nearly giving out, hands balled into fists, arms shaking with anger, and let out a strangled sound that he didn't recognize as being from his own throat.
"Spock." He managed to spit the Vulcan's name, but that's all that could escape before everything collapsed.
Next thing he knew he was on his knees. His head was suddenly too heavy for him to hold and it hit the side of the desk with a thump! Tears were coming faster and harder than he could ever attempt to stop and sobs were shaking his entire body. He couldn't catch his breath and he knew that if he kept gasping for air he would hyperventilate before long.
He didn't want anyone to see him like this, let alone Spock. He was such a worthless human being. How was he expected to care for an entire ship of over four hundred people when he couldn't even care for himself? Four hundred men and women depended on him and he let every one of them down. He felt entirely insignificant and tried in vain to bury his face in his knees while his hands made their way to his hair and stuck there, tight fists tugging roughly at his temples.
And then, somehow, through the haze of self-hatred and nausea, he felt arms, like a furnace, surround him. "No...no I can't stand…" he wailed into his knees, but the arms were not pulling him up. They were embracing him. It took him a moment to realize what was happening, but suddenly he was able to calm down enough to register the situation.
When his sobbing had quieted and some of the feeling returned to him, Leonard could feel gentle hands tugging away his own. Soft fingers prodded into his temple and cheek and he felt a warm, comfortable, fuzzy feeling overtaking him. In the distance, he knew Spock was messing with his head, and he wanted to be angry, but the feeling of numbness was almost positive, and he hadn't felt warmth or comfort in a long time.
Reluctantly, he allowed exhaustion to crash over him like a wave and he leaned into the embrace. His face pressed up against something so hot and soft that he couldn't imagine anything in the world being so comfortable. After a few seconds, Leonard opened his eyes to see he was leaning against Spock's neck. His face blushed a deep red, but the embarrassment went away quickly when he realized the Vulcan still had a sturdy grip on him and his fingers were still pressed to Leonard's psi-points. It was then that he realized, for the first time, that Spock was talking. It was very quiet, almost too quiet for human hears, but the doctor could hear the comforting word rumble throughout the Vulcan's chest. He relaxed at the sound of Spock's voice, still unsure of what he was saying, when he suddenly realized - that wasn't English he was speaking, it was Vulcan.
"Ben vahl navun. Ozhika, palik t'kau ri shaht. Sochya eh dif. Sochya. Sochya."
Translation for Vulcan:
Ben vahl navun. - Grant us success.
Ozhika, palik t'kau ri shaht - Logic, the beginning of wisdom, not the end.
Sochya eh dif. - Peace and long life.
Sochya - Peace.