Title: Regrets Are Meant To Be Shared
Author: klmeri
Fandom: Star Trek TOS
Characters: Kirk, Spock, McCoy
Summary: Leonard makes plenty of mistakes but none so upsetting as this one. Intervention is necessary.
A/N: I was working on a McSpirk story and lost the draft. So after whining about that for weeks, I decided to make myself feel better with this nonsense. We all make mistakes, right? :/
It isn’t meant to be this way. When McCoy accepted the Earth-bound position, he thought he was doing the service a favor. More importantly, he thought taking himself off the radar was what Kirk had wanted. Their fight leading up to this transfer had been explosive and Leonard basically resigned from his flagship post because of it. Jim should be happy—as happy as Leonard is miserable (and more than a little bitter about that, thank you very much) while packing up the few personal items he had acquired during his year aboard the Enterprise.
Part of him had been deluded into believing he was finally fitting in, had made a small, respectable space for himself among the best and brightest of Kirk’s crew. No one really said outright that they couldn’t stand him. Well, no human. Spock is another matter, being the one crewman with whom Leonard had frequently charged interactions, but even those arguments had merit most of the time. At least, by the time he and the First Officer wound down their wildly infamous debates over logic versus emotion, Kirk will be settled on some decisive action regarding the matter that sparked the debate and already three steps ahead of everyone else in implementing it.
That, if anything, made Leonard think he had to have some value to Kirk outside the obvious duties of a CMO. So what if the captain didn’t like his senior medical officer throwing his weight around at times, demanding an account on decisions he didn’t agree with or strong-arming higher-ranking officers into his Sickbay when he deemed it necessary? That had to be the way of it in McCoy’s opinion. A man like Kirk put his ship first and himself second and drummed that behavior into his staff by example without realizing it. Sometimes it feels like a fulltime job trying to make the senior officers keep their check-up appointments or follow through with the medical protocols after a dangerous mission. And sometimes Leonard wants to throw his hands in defeat over the whole thing and, frankly, care a lot less.
He couldn’t. Just as Jim can’t back down when challenged. They should have both known the confrontation would end badly. Maybe if Leonard could have been less of a fool he would have prepared himself for the outcome.
Having finished packing, he finds himself lacking in distractions and sits upon the edge of his neatly made bed. The Director at the Starfleet Academy general hospital expressed how thrilled he is to have McCoy joining his staff. Leonard wishes he could feel thrilled about the opportunity too, but there’s an empty feeling in his chest and a quiet sadness weighing down his limbs which won’t allow for a positive outlook. For the umpteenth time, he suffers a moment of doubt, as though the choice he has already made and the nearly completed transfer process can be undone.
Any job has its ups and downs. Conflicts can be resolved with a healthy dose of determination and the proper cooperation. All that’s needed is a clarity of circumstances and feelings.
Rationally Leonard knows he should have swung right back into Jim’s cabin after stomping out of it and forced a settlement of differences. Should have argued his case until Jim ran out of steam—until they both did—and made a peace offering in the form of strong brandy just like every time in the past. Should have asked, “Is your pride really worth my commission, Jim?” then asked himself the same question.
All the should have‘s and could have‘s are past now. When the Enterprise meets with the Gallant, the vessel that handles ferrying personnel to assignments between the Academy and their various outbound commissions, this ship will gain a few new ensigns and lose its current CMO. Leonard thinks he might be losing the most, but regret as he may what is now mere hours away, he cannot meet Jim’s eyes and admit the transfer is a mistake. He can’t even face his own staff, who are largely unsettled by the news of his reassignment.
So, the answer appears to be yes to that unspoken question. Everyone gets short-changed where one’s pride is concerned.
He looks up at the chime of his cabin door, not at all surprised. That would be Spock, he guesses, and the guess is confirmed a moment later as the Vulcan officer crosses the threshold, a data padd in his hands. Leonard has seen this happen a dozen times over in the past but never imagined it would one day be his turn. Spock approaches, busy marking something down on the padd screen, no doubt having nearly completed the final checklist for the exit of the ship’s CMO before even arriving at McCoy’s quarters.
Leonard lifts his hand, a little ashamed of the strain in his voice. “Where do I sign?”
Spock lowers the padd to consider him and, a moment later, silently tucks the padd away behind his back.
That’s a judging pose if Leonard ever saw one. It just adds another layer of regret to his stew of emotions. This is the last time Leonard will be privy to Spock peering down his nose at him, expressionless in such a way that Leonard can easily perceive it as a slight.
He hiccups a laugh without meaning to. Of all the things to miss! Of course it would be the sternest face Spock can muster. No one will ever do my-holier-than-thou-logic as well as Spock, Leonard is absolutely certain of it.
He has to glance away and blink a few times to clear his eyes. He hopes no one has planned a send-away; he’s already too miserable to hold himself in check. The very thing Spock has always complained about—Leonard’s rampant emotionalism—is dialed far too high right now, and Leonard is in total agreement for once that an emotional display will be out of place (and not to mention unsightly if the urge to weep reprises itself during any farewells). He coughs weakly to give himself an excuse for avoiding eye contact and then delays turning back to Spock a bit longer by fiddling with the lock on his storage box.
The silence has stretched on long enough for Leonard to compose himself and to feel slightly persecuted (to think, Spock doesn’t have even an ounce of compassion to ask him if he’s okay! tch). This time he puts a bit of snap in his tone and holds out an imperious hand as he says, “Well, you’ll have to give it here for me to sign anything!”
“I see,” Spock says, and honestly Leonard thinks Spock doesn’t.
He faces the Vulcan. “What does that mean?”
“Your impression of anger is very poor indeed,” Spock remarks, “when you are not actually experiencing the emotion, Doctor.”
Leonard jumps up from the bed, about to give the know-it-all Vulcan a damned good theatrical production of real anger, when Spock adds, “As I suspected, then. You will not be completing the transfer.”
Leonard freezes. Has Spock lost his mind? “Not completing the—of course I am!” he counters, somewhat taken aback. He has to… doesn’t he?
Removing the padd from behind his back, Spock taps something else onto it. Leonard looks between the device and him and back again.
Doesn’t he?
The moment Leonard darts forward to snatch up the padd, Spock takes two long steps back as if expecting the attack. Crossing his arms over his chest, padd now tucked firmly into the crook of an arm, the Vulcan once again stares unblinkingly at the doctor.
Leonard scolds, “This is no time to play games, Spock! What are you up to?”
“I would be offended by the accusation under other circumstances,” counters Spock, “but you are in fact correct.”
That admission steals the breath right from McCoy’s lungs.
But he doesn’t need to say anything because Spock goes on, “I am here to inform you the rendezvous with the Gallant has been delayed.”
Leonard is dumbfounded. “You did that?”
“The Captain gave the order. In my opinion, he should be the one to give you this news; however at the moment he is too… preoccupied… with practicing how he might explain himself.”
Tension leaves Leonard with such haste, his knees feel weak. He locks his hands behind his back much as Spock had earlier and clears his throat, thinking he knows what Spock is not saying directly. “You make it sound as though he’s nervous.”
“I believe he is.”
“He could just say he’s sorry.”
Spock raises an eyebrow, the meaning quite clear.
Leonard casts his gaze downward, lips thinning. “I know. So could I.”
“The matter has gone far enough, Doctor. Perhaps too far.” Spock’s gaze turns sharper, more thoughtful. “In the future, I would prefer you notify me when you feel it necessary to consider ending your assignment.”
“And we’ll speak about the matter rationally?” he tries to joke.
“Affirmative.”
Leonard’s shoulders fall slightly. “Maybe I just won’t have any more arguments with my captain. Maybe if I do… you’ll be there too and you can put a stop to us doing or saying something we can’t take back.”
Spock’s reply comes slowly. “You understand, I hope, arguing is no more the issue between you and Jim than it is between us.”
Leonard rocks back on his heels. “You and I fight all the time.”
“A healthy debate and a fight are two very different actions,” Spock naturally disagrees, and Leonard cannot help a soft but pleased harrumph at being proven right.
“Good to know how you feel about it,” says Leonard dryly, tamping down a smile. “Since I win most of our debates.”
Spock looks for a second like he will fight McCoy on that assertion. Then he blinks, pulls the padd out of the crook of his arm, and powers it down. “If this conversation is finished, I have a number of duties to attend to.”
Leonard nods and follows the Vulcan to the door. “Should I talk to Jim now?” he asks on a whim, suddenly uncertain of what’s in store for him despite what Spock says.
“Dealing with the Captain in an emotional capacity is your expertise, Dr. McCoy, not mine,” replies Spock, already moving swiftly down the corridor.
McCoy yells after him, “Serves you right that I can’t say ‘Thank you, Mr. Spock!‘”
When he steps back into his cabin, the automatic door shutting out some very curious faces staring after the doctor, his desk comm buzzes. Because Spock came to warn him, Leonard now has a very good idea of who might be on the other end of the line.
Feeling lighter than he has in days, he answers the summons rather cheerfully, “McCoy here!”
“Bones,” comes Kirk’s voice, the anxious thread in it rather clear to McCoy’s ears since he knows to listen for it.
“Jim,” he interrupts before either of them can embarrass themselves overly much on a monitored channel, “I just remembered I owe you a drink.”
“I’m free now,” responds Jim immediately, and Leonard suspects they also have Spock to thank for the clearing of Kirk’s afternoon schedule.
“Great. On my way.”
Ending the call, Leonard pauses a moment to stare at the box of his packed belongings. In the next instant, its lid is thrown back and the contents upended across his bedcovers. Smiling, the doctor exits his quarters, leaving the mess behind to deal with later, knowing he will enjoy returning the items to the shelves and drawers far more than he ever did removing them from where they belonged. Like him, their home is meant to be the starship Enterprise.
-Fini
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