When McCoy returns to his quarters, he is beyond flustered. He is furious with himself. He is furious with Spock. He had so much to say. He doesn't know what he would have said.

When he enters his room all he can do is pace furiously, pivoting back and forth with his gaze set at some point on the distant horizon. He wants to fix things! He wants to help! How can he be expected to help if Spock actively pushes him away?

Doesn't Spock understand what needs to happen? Does McCoy really mean so little to him? Of all the cold-blooded, inhuman, heartless hobgoblins… and there he goes again.

Feet slowing, McCoy winces, curling in on himself. Maybe Spock doesn't want to repair their relationship because he sees something ugly in McCoy. Something people don't want to touch.

No. No, he's just wallowing, now, and he won't stand for it. Spock be hanged, he needs to march right up to the hobgoblin and tell him… tell him…

McCoy's pacing starts back up again.

Tell him what? Tell him sorry? Well, he's already done that. And offered to put himself on report, for good measure! No, what really needs to happen is that they need to communicate. Set new boundaries. Bring everything into the light. McCoy is a therapist, he knows how this ought to go, and Spock's refusal to even interact with Leonard isn't helping one bit. No, they have to get this fixed, and they have to do it now.