Title: New Light to the Darkness (4/5)
Author: klmeri
Fandom: Star Trek AOS
Pairing: pre-Kirk/Spock/McCoy
Summary: McCoy’s feelings don’t go unnoticed.
Previous Parts: 1 | 2 | 3

If you intend to make a nuisance of yourself, the Head Nurse had complained, at least finish last month’s paperwork.

Scoffing at that memory, Leonard confirms his approval on the requisition form for a new regenerator set then swipes over to the next report in his queue. Staff these days are much too brazen, ordering senior officers about and labeling them as nuisances. It’s not like Leonard twiddles his thumbs all day or distracts his team from their doing their jobs. He’s a working manager!

Apparently there had been the perfect balance between when he was absent and present in Medical during a normal work day, and now he’s gone and upset the apple cart by ‘hanging around’ more than usual.

“It’s my own damn department!” Leonard grouses in the silence of his office. Before he can think better of it, he snaps his thumb over to the internal comm system. “Nurse!”

“Yes, Dr. McCoy,” comes the response, “what is it?”

Oh hell, why does she sound so irate? “Never mind,” he mutters, chickening out, and clicks off the unit.

At the next staff briefing, he should say something about respect for one’s superior—even if said superior is supposedly the one at fault for decreasing the overall work efficiency of the team.

Leonard harrumphs, taps his stylus against his data padd, and returns to his paperwork.

Not a moment to soon, it seems. As the door to his office slides open, spilling extra light from the hallway inside, Leonard complains without looking up, “Would you stop checking up on me? I’m not going anywhere.”

“That would appear to be the problem, Doctor.”

Leonard’s head snaps up in surprise. A funny sensation, like nervousness, passes through him. “Commander,” he says with more caution, “to what do I owe the pleasure?”

Spock steps through the doorway to allow the office door to close behind him, though strangely he makes no move to come closer. “Forgive my intrusion, Dr. McCoy. I thought this might be an opportune time to discuss a concern. However I see you are otherwise occupied. Should I return later?”

Leonard waves a hand at an empty chair. “Any concern of yours, Mr. Spock, takes precedence over paperwork. Have a seat.”

Spock obliges him, adopting his favored position for a discussion between colleagues by propping his elbows on the arm rests of the chair and interlocking his fingers except for the index fingers, which he steeples together.

“What’s this concern?” Leonard wants to know, already worried it might have something to do with the one person that could send the First Officer directly to the CMO’s office unannounced.

“You.”

The unexpected answer, combined with the blunt way Spock delivers it, causes Leonard rock back in his chair. “Me?” Then, as his senses return, “You can’t be serious!”

“I assure you I am.” Spock explains, “You requested that I bring any concerns, including those pertaining to yourself, to your attention.” He blinks, adds, “I have not yet approached the Captain.”

Oh god. In other words, Leonard is getting exactly what he asked for since last time he made a big fuss about Spock telling Kirk about a ‘concern’ first.

If it wouldn’t make him look like he’s given up, Leonard would bury his head in his hands and curse his own existence. He summons an ounce of gratitude, partnered with ruefulness. “Thanks, Spock. It’s… mighty nice of you to do as I asked.” Delicately he clears his throat. “You’re concerned… about me. What’s happened this time?”

“Precisely three days, six hours, and nine point seven-nine minutes have lapsed since your last visit to the Bridge, Dr. McCoy. While I do not claim to understand this illogical need of yours to deliberately ignore the regulations governing the security of our most critical command center of the ship, one cannot dismiss the change in habit. I find it most unsettling, therefore I am here to ascertain why.”

How it is that Spock manages to insult him and at the same time express touching concern is beyond McCoy. “So I haven’t been on the Bridge lately. I thought that would make you happy.”

“It is Jim who is unhappy.”

Leonard sucks in a breath. “Spock…”

Spock only blinks placidly at him. “Shall I relay my theory, Doctor?” He proceeds without waiting for Leonard’s reply. “Your error in judgment with Lt. Korro was revealed. Yet rather than choosing to avoid the Captain out of shame, I believe the motivation behind your absence to be more complex. You have undertaken a personal mission to deprive yourself of the one thing which would most likely rectify your guilt—that being,” the Vulcan concludes in a softer tone, “Jim’s forgiveness.”

Leonard stares at him. Usually he hates it when Spock states a painful truth so bluntly but there is a lack of anger this time. “You have an interesting theory, Mr. Spock.”

The commander unlocks his fingers and lowers his arms to rest on the chair. “Do not think I wish to chastise you. On the contrary, it has occurred to me that I am remiss in not taking similar action.”

“What?” he questions more sharply.

“Self-recrimination may be the best course. Although,” Spock adds thoughtfully, “as a Vulcan, there are very few activities which I associate with positive emotion and therefore could deprive myself from pursuing. What would you suggest as an appropriate punishment?”

“Now wait a minute, Spock, you must be joking!” Leonard exclaims. “You’ve got no reason to punish yourself—”

“I committed an act of ignorance, resulting in the loss of any chance we might have had to assist in Korro’s recovery.”

“Damn it, man!” he cries, thumping his fist on his desk and then leveling his finger at Spock. “We’ve been over this. I’m to blame, all right? Why are you even pushing this?”

“If you must suffer,” Spock reasons baldly, “then so must I.”

Leonard presses his mouth into an unhappy line. “That’s blackmail.”

The Vulcan cocks his head. “Fascinating, is it not, that you are susceptible to blackmail when the threat is in regard to me?”

Spock could have shocked Leonard less by reaching across the desk and knocking Leonard upside the head. His mouth comes open and stays open for a while until he recovers the ability to speak. “By god, I think you’ve lost your mind.”

“I considered that possibility, only to conclude that there exist some emotions which cannot be constrained by logic.”

Leonard fumbles for his desk’s bottom drawer where he keeps an emergency tricorder. Spock has lost his mind if he’s admitting to experiencing a feeling and announcing that feeling to be perfectly acceptable.

“Dr. McCoy, I assure you there is no need for concern. I am functioning optimally.”

“In a pig’s eye!” Leonard comes around the desk, adjusting the device in his hand to scan for irregularities in the Vulcan.

Spock, oddly enough, seems quite content to remain seated and allow the examination.

Leonard gives the tricorder a bop with his free hand when the analysis claims Spock is normal. “Damn thing must be broken.”

“If your worry has been assuaged, might we speak plainly?”

Leonard leans back against his desk, crossing his arms. “You tellin’ me you weren’t being plain?”

Spock’s dark eyes hold his. “There is no logical reason for you to deny yourself forgiveness for a mistake. Understandably, you may not feel you should accept it from someone else when you are not yet ready to forgive yourself, but consider a different approach, Doctor. The Captain suffers when you deny him your company. At the very least, are you not bound by your oath as a doctor to prevent more suffering?”

“You came all the way here just to tell me that I’m hurting Jim.” That funny feeling from earlier returns. “You must care about him a great deal.”

“Jim is not the only one I care for.”

Something there in Spock’s eyes; all Leonard has to do is ask, to press a little more.

He’s afraid, suddenly. He breaks eye contact by lowering his gaze. “Spock…” Leonard hardly dares more than a subdued breath. “Message received.”

Silence envelopes the office for some time. When Leonard twitches slightly, starts to unfold his arms, Spock finally rises to his feet to leave.

Leonard glances at his desk, only to return his gaze to the Vulcan’s retreating back. “Spock,” he calls when Spock is upon the threshold, “are you on Bridge duty right now?”

“Affirmative.”

The decision is surprisingly easy to make. “I’ll come with you.”

Spock inclines his head ever-so-slightly. Leonard joins him. Their trek through the ship is a silent but not uncomfortable one. When the turbolift closes in on their destination, a sudden gratitude washes through McCoy. Spock hadn’t invaded his office merely to set his thinking straight; he had come to make a tacit offer of support, should Leonard need it.

He looks to the Vulcan next to him. “Thanks,” he says as the lift door opens to the Bridge.

“You are welcome,” Spock replies, and exits with a greeting of “Captain” to herald their arrival.

The figure in the center of the Bridge should be a foreboding sight, especially when he turns in his chair and his gaze connects with McCoy’s. But Leonard sees the relief there, though it is quickly masked.

“Bones,” Jim says, his tone casual, “where have you been?”

“Buried under a mound of paperwork,” Leonard says by way of explanation, stepping down from the upper platform. “It took a Vulcan to extricate me.”

Jim lifts his voice to carry. “Good work, Mr. Spock.”

Spock pivots away from his Science station to acknowledge the praise with a raised eyebrow and “Thank you, Captain.”

Jim’s gaze finds Leonard again, and Jim smiles.

Leonard smiles back. “What’ve I missed?”

“Star charting,” replies his friend in an aggrieved tone. “Possibly the most boring—”

“Captain,” Sulu cuts in, “long-range scanners are picking up some kind of object.”

“A wessel,” amends Chekov.

Jim twists around to face the main viewer, eyes alight. “Identity, Mr. Chekov?”

“I cannot be certain at this distance, Keptin, but readings indicate a similar energy signal to a Klingon Bird-of-Prey.”

“Bones,” Jim praises him now, “you must be good luck.”

Leonard closes his eyes. “I can’t believe this.”

Spock comes down to the lower platform and takes up a position on the other side of the Captain’s chair. “Captain, luck has nothing to do with it. I did inform you that we were passing in close proximity to a region of space rumored to contain a new outpost of the Klingon Empire.”

Leonard snaps at Spock, “You knew we might encounter Klingons and brought me up here anyway?! Why you green-blooded—”

The Vulcan just looks at him, causing Leonard to inarticulately sputter his final word.

Jim reaches up to pat his senior medical officer’s hand which has latched tightly onto the back of his chair. “Relax, Bones. This is certain to be more entertaining than paperwork.”

“Klingons aren’t entertaining, Jim. They’re murderous! And insane!”

“And approaching fast, Captain,” interjects Sulu. “We’ve been spotted!”

“Shields up!” Jim orders. “Uhura, open a hailing frequency. Let’s find out who wants a piece of my Enterprise.”

“I hate you, Hobgoblin,” Leonard gripes through the sudden blaring of the ship’s klaxons.

“He that hath all can have no more,” quotes Spock.

“Donne,” Jim notes approvingly, grinning up at them both. “This is going to be fun.”

Clearly the commander of the Klingon vessel agrees. He roars through the open channel, “Adversary Kirk! Long have I awaited to destroy you in battle and bring glory to the Empire!”

As the enemy delves into incomprehensible, excited Klingon that has even Uhura scrunching her nose in confusion, Leonard covers his face with his hands.

The Bird-of-Prey opens fire.

~~~

“Sore?” Jim inquires as his CMO slowly limps from the bathroom to the main cabin of the captain’s quarters.

Leonard huffs. “Spock makes a terrible cushion. He’s too bony.”

“I’m just glad he caught you.”

Leonard feels his eye twitch. There are plenty of remarks he could make, like how he wouldn’t have been tossed around on the Bridge if Jim hadn’t wanted to test out a new evasive maneuver against that Bird-of-Prey, or why it is that the Bridge’s damn stabilizer never seems to be working right, or even that Spock only managed to catch him because the Vulcan had practically been breathing down his neck while the ship rocked back and forth.

He settles on, “Damn it, Jim.”

“What?” Jim queries, uncomprehending.

“Next time you want to engage in war games, give me an advanced start back to Sickbay.”

“Bones,” remarks his companion, and the name is full of fondness, “I didn’t request your presence on the Bridge.”

No, that’s the fault of their fool Vulcan. And recalling that little fact has the effect of reminding McCoy why he wanted to see Jim in private.

“We’ve got something to discuss,” he says more gravely, settling on the end of the couch opposite Kirk.

Jim rolls the small amount of liquor remaining in a tumbler in his hand and just watches McCoy curiously.

“I was planning to tell you this before,” he begins, “because I don’t half understand it myself and that annoying First Officer of yours is about as helpful as piss in a boot when it comes to explaining himself.”

“Spock’s usually straight forward.”

“When he wants to be,” counters Leonard. “Which is why I think he’s playing us.”

Kirk’s hand stills. His eyes narrow. “Explain.”

“Apparently the Commander has too much time on his hands. He’s been conducting experiments, of which you and I seem to be the main subjects.”

Jim’s countenance relaxes again. His tone of voice is mild as he asks, “What kind of experiment?”

Leonard frowns. “Didn’t you hear what I just said?”

“Yes, Bones, I did. Spock’s testing a theory. Do you know what it is?”

Leonard can’t understand him. “Jim, you’re not even miffed by the idea that he’s studying us like specimens in a laboratory?”

“That’s just how Spock is. He is so efficient at running the Enterprise, he has to be actively engaged in some other pursuit of knowledge to stay occupied. I mean, c’mon, Bones, imagine living on a starship with a bored Vulcan. Do you think that would be any fun?”

Leonard closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. “You deserve each other.”

Silence.

Then, as Leonard opens his eyes, Jim questions in a peculiar voice, “Why would you say that?”

Leonard blinks. “I don’t rightly know.”

“Bones.”

“Look, kid,” he chides, exasperated, close to throwing his hands up and declaring defeat, “you may be perfectly fine with having a nosy second-in-command but I’m not.” And frankly Spock’s motives confuse him, though he will be damned if he confesses that. “He’s got it into his cotton-pickin’ head to analyze our behavior by the weirdest scientific scale I’ve ever seen. Factors like attraction and suitability. For crying out loud, it’s almost like Spock’s trying to measure our compat…” Before the word fully forms, it lodges in Leonard’s throat. He assimilates his own rant.

Compatibility.

My god, he realizes, it’s a compatibility ratio Spock is after. Namely, the compatibility of one James T. Kirk and Leonard Horatio McCoy.

Still looking directly at Jim, he closes his mouth.

The faint lightening of Jim’s skin means that Jim has finished the sentence without any help. After a tense moment, Jim lowers his drink and rests it on his knee. “You said ‘seen’,” he murmurs in a softer tone. “A write-up of some kind, I presume. Where?”

“Jim,” Leonard says but fails to add more, swallowing hard.

“Where?” Kirk repeats.

“He’s got files on a personal PADD. I had a chance to look at ’em in his office.”

“Thank you for telling me.” Jim’s drink is moved from his knee to the coffee table, and Jim stands up.

Leonard follows suit in a more awkward fashion. Don’t let the conversation end like this, McCoy. He reaches for Kirk’s arm but stops short of actually touching him. “Jim,” he tries again, “hold on a second.”

Jim refuses to look at him. “I see now why it bothers you. I’ll talk to Spock. You’re right. There has to be a line between the scientific and the intrusive.”

Leonard does grab him this time. “Captain!”

Jim turns his head, finally acknowledging McCoy by meeting his gaze. His eyes, normally expressive, for once give no secrets away.

In that instant, Leonard understands a truth about himself. But he takes the coward’s way out. “You said it yourself. It’s who Spock is. Don’t be too hard on him.”

He releases Kirk, then, watching Jim cut a path across the cabin to the computer desk in the corner. There, Jim directs the ship’s computer to locate Spock.

Knowing it isn’t his place to stay, Leonard lets himself out while his commanding officer is busy opening the comm channel to Science. He touches his fingertips to the wall next to the closed cabin door and tries to sort through muddled feelings.

Those files—he desperately wants to see them again, to read Spock’s assessment with this newfound truth fresh in his mind. How obvious now that the jealousy accusation had been a cover-up, first said in passing by Leonard and then cleverly utilized by Spock to set events in motion that would force Leonard—and thereby Jim—to face what Spock had long ago concluded about them: that Leonard and Jim, who are remarkably compatible, have the potential to be more than friends.

And the other truth, the very personal one that feels to Leonard like the last missing piece of a puzzle… that he has been in love with his best friend for a long time.

Those files, he thinks again. He needs them. He has to know without a doubt that the odds are in his favor.

Damn it all to hell, Jim will require Spock to cease his experiment and destroy the evidence.

Leonard turns left down the corridor with renewed purpose. Spock was in one of the Science labs when the ship’s computer located him. At Jim’s request to see him, Spock will head straight for Jim’s quarters.

McCoy sighs deeply when he reaches the turbolift, startling an ensign. Once again, he is on a mission to break into Spock’s office. He would have never guessed that by joining Starfleet he would be adopting criminal behavior.

Hopefully Spock hasn’t added that particular observation to the McCoy file. Leonard would die of embarrassment.

“Deck Thirteen,” he tells the ship’s computer, and the lift speeds on.

~~~

Three hither-to neat stacks of data padds on the shelf behind First Officer Spock’s desk are askew.

Leonard curses, “Son of a bitch!” as a nearby stack topples over in the process of him grabbing the next data padd in the current stack. Where is the damn thing?

So far, every PADD has been secured and mocking his inability to break into it. What happened to the PADD that Spock left unsecured for him to access?

“Of all the times to take precautions, Spock!” he snarls to the empty office, discarding yet another useless device and making a bigger mess of the organized shelf in the process. Finally, in defeat, he turns for the desk drawers to deliberate which one he should pry open first. If it will come open, that is.

Damn Vulcan!

A thump on the outer wall of the office freezes the man in place.

Eyes wide, Leonard then hears the tell-tale beep of a security code being inputted and approved on the other side of the door, and he squeaks in alarm, diving behind the desk just in time as the office door whooshes open.

The long silhouette thrown against the far wall, the very wall that Leonard is now facing in a panic, has pointed ears. The shadow momentarily shortens as it draws farther into the office; then there is a halt in motion at the sound of a faint call along the corridor of “Mr. Spock!”

Leonard breaks out in a sweat. Turn back, turn back, turn back, he pleads silently to the Spock-shadow.

Spock turns back.

The door slides shut again, the shadow disappearing.

Swamped by relief, Leonard slumps to the side and just breathes. It is a second or two before he can rouse himself to his feet. Mission forgotten, he creeps toward the closed door and listens for any noises from the other side.

“You fool,” he whispers furiously to himself, “what are you going to do now?”

There’s nothing for it. He will just have to step out and pray to every available deity that Spock has been enticed away by his staff for some reason or other. It’s not like Leonard can hide away in this blasted small space unless he tries to cram under the desk. Even then, the success of that would be slim.

Jim could probably think of some clever way to get out of this. Unfortunately, Leonard just isn’t that clever.

He hurries at the door at full speed before he allows himself time to think better of the decision. The door quickly draws back.

And reveals Spock on the opposite side, head cocked.

Leonard wants to sink through the floor. “S-Spock,” he stammers.

“Dr. McCoy,” the Vulcan responds evenly, “what a surprise.”

Leonard’s brilliant brain fails him. He can’t think up a proper excuse.

Without further ado, Spock places one hand on McCoy’s shoulder and propels him backwards. The door closes on their heels, leaving them alone inside the office. Spock lowers his hand back to his side.

“I,” Leonard begins, stops, tries again. “I…” Damn it. He shields his eyes out of shame. “I broke into your office again.”

“Obviously.”

Leonard dares to peek at the Vulcan. “That’s all you have to say?”

“It would seem,” Spock adds, “that you require unrestricted access to my domain. Shall I suggest to the Captain that we cohabitate?”

At that, Leonard’s thought process pops like an overloaded lightbulb, fizzles and dies. “Cohabitate?” he repeats dumbly.

“Other alternatives would not be as efficient.”

Leonard takes a step back, then another. For the first time when he looks at Spock, he sees an alien. Not someone he can’t communicate with or understand, but an honest-to-god unidentified lifeform.

“You’re not joking,” he decides. “You’d really go to Jim and ask him that.”

Spock confirms, “I would.”

Leonard shakes his head. “Spock, what’s the matter with you? What’s happened to you?”

Without warning, Spock moves past the doctor to his desk. From the shelf behind it, he retrieves an ornate box small enough to fit into two hands which Leonard had dismissed as a trinket or family heirloom. “To answer accurately would be an impossibility,” Spock informs Leonard as he opens the box, “but I shall endeavor to try.” He offers up a device, then, which turns out to be a mini-PADD.

“What is this?” McCoy asks as he takes it, watching Spock closely.

The Vulcan occupies himself with replacing the box and tidying the shelf. “I promised to share my file with you, Leonard. Take it, read it, and when you are done, return to me. I would appreciate your thoughts as well but know that if you do not share them with me, that in and of itself will be considered an answer.”

An answer. But hadn’t Leonard asked a question of Spock, not vice versa?

Leonard lingers only a moment before preparing to leave because it has become acutely clear to him that Spock is uncomfortable. Then he remembers his reason for getting caught in the first place. “Jim knows about your assessments,” he warns Spock. “He’ll ask you to stop.”

“He already has,” comes the reply.

That hurts Leonard for some inexplicable reason. “I’m sorry.”

Spock turns to face him, then. “It does not matter. My work could be taken no further. Action is no longer the prerogative of the tester but of the subjects.”

“This is important to you,” he realizes.

“I would not risk my standing with you and Jim otherwise.”

Leonard believes him. “I’ll read it, Spock,” he promises, “and afterwards let you know what I think.” It’s the least I can do, he doesn’t add.

This time Leonard does leave, resolutely, not quite feeling a burden on his shoulders but definitely what one could define as responsibility for the future. His future, Spock’s… and Jim’s.

There’s only one thing that comes to Leonard’s mind as he passes from Science to the junction of main corridors. But will it do any good?

~~~

Darkness has settled in without obvious reason, lending the cabin a coldness that shouldn’t be there. Leonard steps into it with unease, calling to the computer, “Lights, thirty percent.”

The main cabin seems to brighten more slowly than usual, as if loathe to give up what it has hidden from sight: a man on the short couch, wide-awake and soundless.

“You came back,” that man says.

Leonard frowns. “Why are you sitting in the dark?”

Jim’s gaze slides away. “Needed to think.”

Leonard accepts that with a sigh because he’s in no position to judge strange habits. “I came back because I made a mess of things. Here.” He approaches Kirk and holds out the mini-PADD Spock had given him.

Jim takes it, wanting to know like Leonard had, “What is it?”

“That experiment I complained about? Spock included himself in it.” Jim draws the tiniest breath, but it’s enough for Leonard to know that Jim is willing to listen to the rest. “He gave me his file. I want us to read it together.”

Jim’s knuckles whiten against the black device, but he says nothing as Leonard gingerly sits next to him.

“I made another mistake, Jim,” Leonard confesses. “I didn’t consider what relevance Spock’s work would have to him. I guess I thought he spent his time observing us, analyzing us, simply because he could… or because he believed he was duty-bound to. That he would be invested in the results more than anyone else didn’t cross my mind. But you told him to stop, didn’t you?”

“I did. Bones…”

“Jim,” Leonard interjects more quietly, suddenly having a difficult time meeting his eyes, “we’re gonna break his heart if we’re not careful.”

Jim’s throat works as he lays the PADD down in his lap. “Bones, do you understand the significance of what you just said?”

“How can I not? You didn’t see the way he held himself,” reveals Leonard, “like he’d just handed me all the hope in the galaxy. In all these years, I’ve never seen Spock that vulnerable. That’s why I came here, Jim. I can’t trust myself not to do him harm, even unintentionally. I need you to help me figure this thing out.” He begs, “Won’t you, please?”

Jim reaches between the couch cushions, unearths something which looks like a replica of Spock’s personal PADD.

Leonard takes it, astonished.

“I guess you could say Spock came prepared to face me.” Jim picks up the other data padd from his lap, inspecting its casing with care. “You said this one has the report on Spock?”

“Yeah, it does. And this,” Leonard surmises, holding up the one Jim presented, “must have our files?” Of course. Spock would have given it to Jim to read once he realized there would be no other opportunity to do so.

Jim nods. “Bones,” he says, glancing up, “I have something to tell you as well, since I think I already know what is in this report.”

“What do you mean you think you know?“

Jim holds his gaze. “Those dreams, memories… they belonged to Ambassador Spock. I know because I can tell you how he felt.”

Leonard is taken aback. “His feelings, not just his memories, transferred to you?” But Spock had said that would be a rare occurrence, since information transmitted through a mind meld generally lacked emotion. It is the Vulcan way, Spock had explained, to filter out emotions whenever possible, unless the purpose of the meld is to interpret or influence them.

“No, not always,” amends Kirk. “Most of time it’s like I am watching a movie without sound. I don’t feel anything from the memories. But a few…” Jim lifts a hand, rubs the back of it against his mouth briefly. “Just a few of them have coloring. A sense I can recognize, like how I know I would feel if I experienced happiness or sadness… loneliness. Bones, I think there were moments in Ambassador Spock’s life when he felt so deeply he could not separate his emotion from the memory—that, or he didn’t care to.”

Leonard is both fascinated and disturbed. “Jim, I can’t imagine how… strange that would feel.”

“Not so strange,” murmurs his friend, “when one can empathize.”

“What?” The word comes out sharper than intended. Leonard makes an effort to gentle his tone. “Jim, what do you mean?”

Jim raises the PADD between them. “That if our Spock thinks and feels as Ambassador Spock did, I know what’s on here.” He takes a deep breath. “And I will likely agree with him. Can you handle that?”

“How do I know if I can handle it if I don’t know what I’m supposed to be handling?”

Jim nods once, resolutely. “Then let’s find out.” He activates the PADD.

Nervousness and apprehension have never stopped Leonard before when it comes to follow his friend into the unknown, and it doesn’t stop him now. He leans into Jim’s shoulder so he can see the screen powering on. Hardly to Leonard’s surprise, Jim shifts to slip his arm around Leonard’s shoulders, not seeking comfort or offering it, but affirming for McCoy they shall always face what is to come together.

Leonard loves him for that caring, that support; he always has. It’s water to a dying man, to someone like Leonard who once believed he would be utterly alone for the rest of his life.

So the question becomes simpler, then: when the unknown Kirk and McCoy are facing turns out to be Spock, will they become weaker or stronger?

Because Leonard isn’t willing to hurt any more people, he decides there is little choice. He must become strong enough to take care of Spock too.

“Here it is,” Jim says softly, having located the file.

“Read it aloud,” requests Leonard. “Don’t skip any parts.”

“I won’t,” his friend promises, and clears his throat to begin.

Well… This needs an epilogue, preferably with an endgame. Do I hear any objections?

In other words, my dear readers, stay tuned for the final part. Thanks!

BTW, Spock was quoting “Lovers’ Infiniteness” – it seemed approps!

Next Part

Related Posts:

• New Light to the Darkness (5/5) – from November 9, 2016
• New Light to the Darkness (3/4) – from October 6, 2016
• New Light to the Darkness (1/4) – from September 19, 2016

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