Title: For the Sake of Nothing, Part 3
Author: klmeri
Fandom: Star Trek AOS
Pairing: pre-Kirk/Spock/McCoy
Summary: Spock and McCoy have a chat, wherein some things are decided and many more things become confused.
Previous Parts: 1 | 2

“I want to discuss Jim.”

It took a moment for those words to ripen in Leonard’s brain; when they finally did, he took the easy way out. “No thanks, let’s not.”

He thought he could crowd Spock back out the door, but somehow it was Spock, stalking forward in a manner that would have been coupled with a menacing look were he anybody else, who had McCoy scuttling backwards into the room.

“I’m not joking, Spock,” Leonard said, amazingly still managing to sound angry. “You have to leave now!”

Spock ignored him. “Jim is enamored of you.” His tone of voice said I certainly cannot see why.

Oh, crap. This is exactly what he didn’t want to talk about with the dark-haired man. “Look,” Leonard began, moving away to find the pack of cigarettes he had stuck between the couch cushions only hours before, “I get it. Jim imagines himself in bed with me, and you’re pissed about it.” Normally he didn’t smoke inside his apartment but tonight was going to have to be the exception. He stuck a fresh cigarette in the corner of his mouth and talked around it while his search expanded to locate his lighter. “If you’re planning on throwing me out the window, I hate to disappoint. It’s painted shut.”

The man moved fast. Leonard made a noise of surprise as Spock plucked the cigarette from his mouth and crushed between two gracefully long fingers.

Leonard could only think to say one thing: “Hey! That was mine, asshole!”

“Smoking is a vile habit,” Spock said smoothly, turning away to seek out a place to throw away the now-unusable cigarette. Leonard reached down, while Spock wasn’t looking, and covered the remainder of his pack with a pillow.

“You’re just set on ruining my entire night, aren’t you?” Leonard muttered. He looked towards the single cabinet and sink that sadly served as his kitchen. Next to the sink was a hot plate with a pot of half-eaten ramen. The ramen had gotten cold by now, which was almost a blessing. Leonard had no stomach for it anymore, though it was close to all he could afford. (Unless he gave up his coffee, the one concession he had left to luxury, which was likely to happen when hell froze over.)

He had a fork in the pot but no knife. So much for stabbing Spock.

Suddenly not giving a damn about whatever Spock intended to do, Leonard sat in the chair by his writing desk, put his elbow on the table, and propped his head. If he looked slightly to the left, he could see street lights, like a scattering of dimmed fireflies, for a mile or so. Sometimes he sat here and stared out the window, wishing just once he could see a star in the sky. He used to lie on the back lawn of his childhood home, counting stars, until his younger brother snuck outside to join him. Then Peter would inevitably fall asleep and Leonard would carry the small boy inside. Peter had been a late addition to the McCoy family, one everybody adored.

The smog swallowed the stars in this city. Tears pricked at Leonard’s eyes.

He immediately shoved down the grief, because there was nothing worse than showing that intimate hurt to a stranger.

Still, his voice was slightly hoarse when he snapped “Fuck off” at the staring man. Spock continued to stare silently at him. Leonard sat up and ground his back molars. “Are you always this psycho over Jim’s crushes?”

“No.”

Leonard laughed soundlessly, not believing that denial for a second.

“I have not… become involved in Jim’s personal life before now because,” Spock clarified slowly, “Jim has not taken an interest in anyone the way he has taken an interest in you.”

Oddly, Leonard’s heart skipped a beat. “You’re making that up.”

“I do not lie.”

“Bullshit. Everybody lies.”

Spock stepped forward. “Do you intentionally seek to provoke me, Mr. McCoy?”

Leonard gripped the side of his wooden chair. “Did you come here looking for a fight?” he countered.

Spock was silent for a long moment. At last, he answered, “I cannot be certain. I thought… It does not matter what I thought. I came here for one purpose.” Spock did not draw in a deep breath like most people but Leonard could tell he was working up the courage to say something nonetheless. “I want you to consider Jim’s affection—and the possibility of returning it.”

Spock could have said he was a Go-Go dancer in his spare time and Leonard would have been less surprised. “Come again?”

Spock paced to the door, hands behind his back. Leonard didn’t like the way those hands gripped each other, until the knuckles were bloodless. Spock was only barely managing to restrain himself.

From what? Violence? Leonard knew he didn’t want to find out. He asked carefully, “Why would you want me to date Jim if you love him, Spock? I’m not trying to be dense, but I simply don’t understand that logic.”

“It is not logical,” the owner answered, not looking directly at Leonard. “In truth, it is the exact opposite of what I desire. I do not want you to date Jim.”

Leonard stood up. “…Now I’m confused. Do you, or don’t you?”

Spock faced him. “I do not want you to date Jim, yet nor do I want Jim to be unhappy. At this moment, he is precisely that—unhappy. He misses you. He hurts because of you.” That last sentence was said with a hint of darkness.

“Spock,” Leonard drawled the name gently and approached the man, hoping what he was about to say might actually sink in. “You can’t walk in here and give me the green light. Nothing’s so easy as that,” he added a bit mournfully.

Spock was still, too still. “Then Jim was correct. You do not want him.”

“I didn’t say that. I said it’s complicated.”

“How can it be complicated?” Spock pressed. “Feelings are not—”

“I like Jim,” Leonard interrupted. “In fact, I am fairly sure I would enjoy him.” He ignored the way Spock’s mouth pressed into a thin line at that bold statement. “But there are several reasons why starting a relationship with Jim—with anybody—would be a bad thing for me to do right now.”

Oddly enough, Spock seemed to relax. “Name them,” he told Leonard, as though pros and cons made everything so much simpler. In Leonard’s opinion, they only muddled things worse, like laying out personal desires and regrets aside one another to form an embarrassing history.

His face almost colored. “Some of them are very personal reasons, Spock. I can’t say I’m comfortable telling a stranger about ’em.”

Spock didn’t have to say a word. Leonard interpreted his unspoken response well enough: I am not comfortable here. Why should you be?

Rubbing tiredly at his face, Leonard went over to the sink to find busy work for his hands. He picked up the pot, and not knowing where else to put it, set it back down on the hot plate. He thought idly that his mother would kill him for keeping so unkempt a house. Then he remembered he would never hear another word from her.

“I can’t deal with being close to anybody,” he said suddenly, only stopping himself just in time from adding I’m still sharing room with ghosts in my head. “I just can’t. That wouldn’t be fair to Jim. He wouldn’t understand that it isn’t his fault I am too messed up to have a meaningful relationship.” Leonard snuck a glance at Spock’s impassive face. “I doubt you’d want me to break his heart.”

“I would avenge him if that were the case,” Spock replied.

Leonard almost smiled. This guy had it bad for Jim. Suppressing that smile, he continued. “A second reason is that while I’m certain I like Jim back, I don’t know how… solid that feeling is.” How could it be, when he actually found himself attracted to Jim and Spock? “Maybe it’s a momentary lust. Maybe it’s just curiosity. You have to admit, Jim makes a person wonder what it would be like to even have a second with him. He’s so… bright.”

“Vibrant.”

“Yes!” Leonard turned to look at Spock, glad they understood each other, only to have his stomach drop at the pain etched into Spock’s face. Then that pain was quickly masked when Spock realized Leonard recognized it.

Leonard fixed his eyes on a spot over Spock’s shoulder. “There’s a third reason: I know it would hurt you to see us together. I may be a mean guy sometimes but you, Spock—I’m not gonna hurt you like that. It’s just plain cruel.”

Silence stretched over the room, not tense but heavy.

“You are not what I expected,” Spock said softly.

“Same to you, buddy.” Spock came here to give away his chance to be happy with Jim. That took guts—or stupidity of an enormous kind. “So,” Leonard said, crossing his arms, belated realizing he was wearing a ratty t-shirt and dirty sweatpants (which was not stellar when compared to Spock’s clean, well-cared-for attire), “are we done here?”

Spock blinked at him. “You said there were several reasons.”

Leonard couldn’t help but lift the corner of his mouth. “There could be. Would you count me being an ornery old bastard?”

“Ornery, perhaps, if the usual temperament I am privy to is any indication of your true personality. Old I doubt, for I believe I am older than you are. ‘Bastard’ is the only description I cannot judge upon. I know nothing of your parents’ marital status.”

Leonard pressed a fist to his mouth. Spock had a sense of humor after all, dry though it was. Clearing his throat of the would-be laugh, he dropped his hand back to his side and stole a longing glance at his couch. “I could use a cigarette.”

Spock made no move towards the door. “Though I comprehend some of your reasons, Leonard, we have not reached an agreement concerning Jim.”

Leonard lifted an eyebrow. “I didn’t know we were bartering.”

Spock said gravely, “There is still the matter of Jim’s feelings.”

What a mess, Leonard thought. “Jim would seem to be the crux of the problem.” Leonard mused for a moment. “Maybe I could put him off? I mean, show up in drag or something…”

For the first time, Spock’s eyes shone with amusement. “Then you do not know Jim. He appreciates all forms of beauty—men, women, and men dressed as women.”

Leonard laughed without thinking. “Of course he would. I swear, there is nothing worse than what that kid is. And to be honest, I’m not sure there is a category for the likes of him.”

“Indeed.”

They looked at each other for a moment, sharing a silent camaraderie. Then Leonard sobered.

“It’s almost dawn. Don’t you have a business to run?”

“I do,” Spock agreed. He un-clasped his hands and slowly put them into his coat pockets. “Will you come by today?”

Leonard glanced away and caught sight of sunlight drifting up towards the sky. “I guess.” He paused. “I’m sorry I made a mess of your life, Spock.”

“I am the one responsible, Leonard. I have not had the courage to tell Jim the truth.”

“So no lying, just a withholding of the truth.”

“Correct.”

“That always comes back to bite you in the ass, Spock.” Leonard padded barefoot to the door, opened it, and stood awkwardly there. “You should tell him now,” he suggested as Spock walked past him into the building’s third floor hallway.

“It is too late for that, I fear,” the solemn-faced owner said. “Goodbye, Leonard.”

“Bye, Spock,” Leonard replied, not knowing what else to say.

He closed the door quietly, replaced the chain lock, and stared at it for some time, tracing its lopsided frame and how the door didn’t quite fit snugly in the doorway. Such a scant protection from the outside world. One knock would break it down. He had learned that about his heart as well when his family had died.

If Spock thought his own actions were cowardly, he had nothing on McCoy. Leonard couldn’t love for the simple fact he was utterly afraid to. Even now, as he ghosted through his life just on the edge of surviving, he couldn’t imagine going back to his old self. Who was that person that had planned to finish college? Who had been that happy boy in the old photo album shoved in the far reaches of his closet where he couldn’t see it?

It wasn’t Leonard, that much he was certain. He had changed, adapted. He was somebody new.

…But not somebody he was entirely certain he liked. This confusion with Jim and Spock had brought that fact to light. Unnerved, Leonard dragged out his pack of cigarettes and smoked them one by one until all he had left were crumbling filters at his feet.

The dawn gave way to a beautiful morning. Leonard couldn’t help but think how ugly his existence was by comparison. He dressed for the day and left for work, determined to let trouble lie. He didn’t go to the coffee shop as promised because, unlike Spock, Leonard knew how to be a liar.

Next Part

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