Spock had concluded that the best time to speak to the Doctor was at the end of his shift. This was an immensely private matter, and he didn't want to draw an audience. Deciding that the logical course of action was to visit Dr McCoy in his lab or quarters, he checked with the computer where he could be found this evening.
Destination settled; Spock walked determinedly through the ship with his hands behind his back. To the casual observer he looked as calm as he always did however, nothing could be further from the truth. He'd found himself distracted and was perturbed that his focus, which should have been on his duties, had been decidedly elsewhere for most of the day. His time on the bridge had passed without significant incident, fortunately, and if Jim had noticed anything amiss with his work, he hadn't mentioned it.
- - -.
Leonard heard the whoosh of the opening door mechanism and rolled his eyes, what the hell was wrong now? Could he not have a moment to himself? Sighing, he shook off his fatigue and re-donned his professional CMO persona. When nobody made their way into the lab, he cleared his throat pointedly. "You might as well come on in; these facilities are open to all personnel. Certainly, don't let me put you off."
McCoy was surprised to see the ship's first officer warily enter the medical lab. He smoothly closed his console which showed his latest human and Vulcan blood projections. There was no need for Spock to know that he'd been working on a project involving him. Spock was aware these labs were free to use, why hadn't he announced his entrance? As Leonard waited for an explanation, he didn't miss the way Spock looked around each corner of the room before meeting his eyes. "We are alone, Doctor?"
Oh dear Lord, Spock never sought him out unless it was of the upmost importance. He should have known better, something big must have happened. Jumping to his feet in alarm, Leonard reached for his med-kit. "What's the matter, Spock? Are you hurt?"
At Spock's barely raised eyebrow, McCoy nodded in understanding and switched tactics. "Not you, then. That's good at least. Jim? Has something happened on the bridge? Come on man, I need details!"
Spock was confused, McCoy had seemed almost concerned about him. Odd. Had he forgotten that they were unobserved and there was no need to keep up the façade that they were anything other than reluctant colleagues?
After a beat, Dr McCoy growled in agitation at his lack of response and started to march past him, Spock held up a hand blocking his path. "There is no immediate emergency, Doctor. Please calm yourself."
Leonard deflated and collapsed back onto his stool, dropping his bag and its contents across the workbench. After a fleeting moment of relief, his expression darkened, and he released some of his famous fury in Spock's direction. "Then what the hell was all that about? Some new way to test my fatigue and reaction times after a double shift? You nearly gave me a heart attack!"
Spock remained eerily still, wondering how best to approach the matter he'd come to discuss.
At the continued silence, McCoy frowned suspiciously at the unexpected guest. "If you're not in a talkative mood Spock, that's fine with me. Just take a seat will ya? You're making me crazy standing there like a lemon."
Spock squared his shoulders and stiffly sat at the adjacent desk, steepling his fingers in front of his face.
Leonard held back a groan; he didn't think the overgrown Elf would actually choose to join him. In situations like this they usually had Jim liaising between them, he hadn't spent much time with Spock on his own. Normally, whenever they'd been in the lab together, they didn't pay attention to the other, both happy to work in comfortable silence. But now that he was here, his Mama would pitch a fit if she saw how ungracious he was being. Clearing a space in front of him, he walked over to the replicator. "Something to drink then, while you wait?"
When that offer was declined, Leonard muttered under his breath about ungrateful so-and-sos and got himself a tea. Glaring angrily at the cup, he wished he had something stronger to hand.
Once the Doctor had retaken his seat, Spock's pensive stare finally cleared, and he took a deep breath. "Is has come to my attention that you've been treating me differently to the rest of the crew."
Leonard's eyes almost popped out of his head; Spock wanted to talk about the two of them? Well, this wasn't going to be an easy conversation. Not that any conversation he'd shared with Spock was what you would call easy-peasy... more difficult-difficult-lemon-difficult. At a loss, he tried to be as succinct as possible. "Treating you differently? In all honesty Spock, I don't think we've changed much, if at all, from the day I beamed aboard. You've been as aloof with me as you are with everyone else, and I suspect I annoy you as much as I ever did. We've always been like chalk and cheese, but it seemed to work well enough for us... Did Jim put you up to this? I know our disagreements have him climbing the walls at times."
Spock didn't react to McCoy's summary and continued. "The captain's wall climbing activities aside, that is not what I am referring to. You no longer need to pretend, Doctor. Your untoward activity these last few months has been discovered."
Leonard's eyebrows shot into his hairline. Spock had apparently come here to pick a fight. Trying to keep his voice even, he gave Spock the chance to explain himself. "And just what, may I ask, is that supposed to mean?"
Holding his ground, Spock strode over and towered over his seated colleague. "Exactly what I said. I have become concerned with my medical treatment, or lack of therein."
Suddenly furious, Leonard took to his feet causing Spock to take a step backwards. "Lack of medical treatments? Are you kidding me? Of all the stupid… You, you haven't got the first clue! Be very careful before you start insulting the quality of work supplied by my staff, they work their socks off for you on a daily basis. If you must know, we'd be better prepared if the damned Vulcans had given me all your relevant information, and not just the parts they thought I'd be able to understand. Getting anything useful out of them was like trying to draw blood from a stone. Apparently, a lowly human doctor shouldn't be asking such things of a private people whose scientific advancements so vastly exceeds my own."
Spock was surprised, but he hadn't missed the clear venom in McCoy's voice when he mentioned other member of his species. Now they were getting somewhere, he just needed to draw out the Doctor's confession. "You contacted Vulcan healers on my behalf? For what possible reason would you need to meddle in my personal affairs? Some sort of sick curiosity?"
McCoy flushed at the accusation. "I had no choice, dammit! I could hardly rely on my predecessors."
Spock frowned, that was not what he'd expected the Doctor to say. "You found their work insufficient?"
Leonard could have laughed, had he not been so exhausted. "Insufficient? No. Completely irrelevant is more like it. Volume after volume of endless examinations but no time spent drawing conclusions or making any attempt to adapt or change the standard methods."
Nodding to himself, Spock folded his arms. "Ah, so you wanted to distinguish your work from those that came before. The great Doctor McCoy, rising to fame by 'fixing' my defective half-Vulcan physiology. In order make a name for yourself, you wished for the exclusive pleasure of experimenting on my person. All without my knowledge or prior consent, of course. Given the length of time this study has been running, I believe yours will be a great success. Although, I am sure there is still plenty left of me to be dissected. Should I survive the next few years of malpractice, you would no doubt ensure my abject humiliation is to be thoroughly publicised for future reference."
Aghast, Leonard rose to his feet. "Well if that's what you think of me Mr Spock, I don't know why I ever bothered trying. Why don't you leave the ignorant and racist human doctor alone so he can tinker away in peace?!"
On the verge of losing control, Spock's eyes were ablaze, and his hands had curled into tight fists. It was all true then? McCoy hadn't denied any of it. In frustration, he knocked the Doctor's remaining PADDs from the worktop and strode out of the laboratory with as much dignity as he could muster.
Upon reaching the corridor, Spock was dismayed to find his breathing still elevated and a prominent warmth across his cheeks, he should never have allowed McCoy close enough to evoke such a reaction. Under Dr McCoy's glare, he'd felt the same biased scrutiny as his Vulcan classmates. He was nothing more than an oddity to be prodded and poked until he produced an emotional response, only good as a scientific curiosity to be exploited for the entertainment of others. He should have known better than to believe the Doctor had his best interest at heart. Honestly, he struggled to identify exactly what it was about the man that had ever made him think otherwise. A long session of meditation on the subject was in order, he needed to calmly compartmentalise what he'd learned from tonight's discussion before speaking to Captain Kirk.
- - -.
Finding himself alone with his thoughts, Leonard slid down to the floor with his head in his hands. There was no fixing this. Spock honestly believed he'd been maliciously tampering with his health and then laughing about it behind his back? What sort of monster did he think he was? Clearly, what had been meant as friendly one-upmanship had been no such thing. None of his jokes had been taken in jest, which was likely his own wretched fault; it wouldn't be the first time that his sharp tongue had gotten him into trouble. He did have a nasty habit of calling Spock names whenever he was bested, which happened frequently. Had he really driven such a wedge between them? For his part, he'd actually grown rather fond of the rigid first officer. More than fond, in truth. Although, obviously, that sentiment hadn't been expressed in a way the half-Vulcan could understand.
Leonard was ashamed of himself; he'd managed to completely ostracize a vulnerable patient who should have been able to trust him with his life. As much as he'd like to blame Spock for the misunderstanding, the man hadn't done anything to him beyond acting in his normal fashion. The half-Vulcan had always been strictly himself, almost to a fault, never wavering from his logical actions despite the constant needling thrown his way.
Jesus, he was no better than the idiot doctors at Starfleet academy. Could he truly say that his desperation to see Spock's human side emerge was drawn entirely from a need to help the man? Or was it more personal than that? The desperation for Spock to acknowledge his Terran heritage was, in part, his own insecurities seeking validation. There was a reason that Spock managed to rub him up the wrong way; his dismissiveness of emotion hit too close to home. McCoy had always believed the human ability to empathise was what ultimately had redeemed their species and was something to be proud of. He'd taken Spock's rejection of that fact as a slight against who he was as a person, and confirmation that he wasn't good enough.
There was one thing that McCoy, useless as he was, could do for Spock right now, and that was to be as transparent with him as he should have been from the start. Bundling together his full collection of notes, research, logs, conclusions, and medical records together into one computer file – he removed his own access code and granted Spock and Mbenga dual ownership of the information. Spock, so he could see what was contained within, and Mbenga, so the medical team could still refer to the records in an emergency.
To avoid any further upset, McCoy endeavoured to withdraw from the situation completely. Mbenga could take over as Spock's primary physician, his experience on Vulcan would ensure a level of cultural respect that should have been present from the start. Trust between a doctor and his patient was essential to caregiving, and he'd somehow managed to shatter all of Spock's faith in him. Way to go Leonard. It was no wonder he was alone, master of pushing away everyone that had ever mattered to him.
Deep down Leonard McCoy had always felt that he wasn't cut out for space travel, just an old country doctor, and maybe this was the push he'd needed to finally accept the truth:
He had no business being here.
Not on the Enterprise, and certainly not as the ship's chief medical officer.
He'd have to let Jim know that he wasn't cut out for this, and never had been.
It wasn't the kid's fault; he hadn't known him long enough to see that he was rotten to the core.