Work Text:
Hopeless Case
by Scarlet
"It has to do with -- "
Doctor McCoy patiently waited for Spock to finish the sentence. Very rarely did Spock ask for a private conversation with the doctor, but now he was sitting in sickbay on his own initiative, obviously troubled and struggling to explain why.
McCoy waited for almost a minute, but the Vulcan's words were still hanging in the air.
"Is it about some aspect of Vulcan biology? You can trust me, I won't be shocked or anything. Not after what I've already seen of it."
The hurt in Spock's eyes made McCoy immediately regret mentioning the horrible event that should have been Spock's wedding, but had turned into a bloody ritual ending only when Spock thought he had killed his friend and captain.
"It has nothing to do with Vulcan biology. It is a matter most decidedly un-Vulcan." A long pause. "It has to do with -- "
McCoy managed not to interrupt this time.
" -- the captain."
McCoy straightened in his chair. "Something's wrong with Jim?"
"Not -- no." Spock steadied his hands on McCoy's desk. "The problem lies within myself." There, he had said it.
McCoy didn't understand his confession, crystal clear as it seemed to the Vulcan. "So, what *is* the problem?"
Spock looked up into McCoy's friendly, concerned face. "Do you really not comprehend, Doctor? The problem is that I am having -- emotions -- regarding the captain."
The truth began to dawn on McCoy. Of course. He almost said, "So, what's the problem? Have you told him? How does he feel about it?" But he realized that the person seeking his
advice, or whatever he was seeking, wasn't just any insecure, lovesick teenager. This was Spock. Half Vulcan, half human, and completely confused.
Christine Chapel walked by, pretending she wasn't there. Nevertheless, Spock tensed.
McCoy made a quick decision. "Why don't we continue this talk in my quarters? Or yours, if you prefer."
****
Doctor McCoy turned up the heat in his cabin, hoping to find a temperature that would be reasonably comfortable to both of them.
Spock seemed more relaxed in this environment than he had been in sickbay. "The reason I came to you, Doctor, with a problem that may not usually concern the medical department, is that I would like to take sick leave for an extended period of time."
"Sick leave?" McCoy sternly told himself not to joke about it. That would have been cruel. "What do you have in mind?"
"There is a Vulcan spiritual discipline that has been known to cure unwanted emotional conditions. I would prefer to try this method, rather than to resign."
"Resign? What the hell are you talking -- "
"It would be logical not to withdraw my service from Starfleet on account of an emotional affliction. I will go to Vulcan, and purge myself, and regain my balance, and then, I can once again offer my services."
McCoy almost wanted to cry when he understood the scope of the pain the man was going through. "Spock, have you even tried to talk to Jim? Have you told him about your feelings?"
"I would not wish to embarrass my captain with the issue of my weakness."
"For god's sake!" McCoy didn't know if he wanted to comfort or hit the stubborn Vulcan. "How do you know he'll be embarrassed? For all you know, your feelings might be returned."
Had Spock been human, he would have grimaced.
"Doctor. Our captain is a ladies' man of galactic proportions. We have both witnessed his skill, not to mention his pleasure, in interacting with the opposite sex. You also know, as well as I, that he is not incapable of very strong feelings where women are concerned. Do I have to remind you of Edith Keeler?"
McCoy winced. "I'd rather you didn't." He didn't want to think of the remarkable woman who ran to her death even as McCoy wanted to stop her. Kirk wouldn't let him, and it was a long time before McCoy realized how much this had cost the man who was his captain.
"Or Miramanee, who died before she could give birth to his child. Or even the android Rayna. I personally had to help him ease the pain of losing her."
The bitterness that could have been detected in Spock's face a moment ago had vanished, and there was nothing but sadness and sincerity in his voice as he asked McCoy:
"You know him as well as I do. Have you ever noticed in him a romantic interest in male, Vulcan science officers?"
McCoy didn't know what to say. "I know he cares about you very much -- " No good. He decided to use the scientific approach. "All right, so Jim loves women. This doesn't mean he's incapable of loving men. Just as I don't mind a good brandy, just because I enjoy the occasional whiskey -- excuse me, Spock, didn't mean to compare you to a brandy."
McCoy tried his usual smirk, but he was not quite successful.
"God, Spock, I can't believe I'm lecturing you on logic. The one doesn't necessarily exclude the other, dammit. There have been women in my life."
This time, it was Spock who patiently waited for McCoy to continue. The last sentence sounded decidedly unfinished. "Yes, doctor?"
"And -- and I think Jim would be a fool if he turned you down."
Spock tried to find the lecture on logic in McCoy's statement. "Please elaborate, doctor. I am trying to follow."
McCoy couldn't help his uneasiness giving way to irritation. "Will you stop calling me doctor? I have a first name, you know, and I'm trying to give you some friendly advice here, not examine your thyroid, if you even have one."
That rare twinkle appeared in Spock's eyes at the doctor's teasing remark. "Am I to assume that you are my friend, not my doctor -- dammit?" The last word was pronounced with impeccable clarity.
McCoy was undescribably relieved to hear Spock actually joking with him once again. "Yes, Spock. I'm your friend -- dammit. And I'd hate to see you leave this ship. It'll be an empty place without you."
"My leave will be for a limited time. I will be back."
McCoy leaned over the table, looking into the Vulcan's eyes as if trying to pierce them with his own. "Don't go, Spock. Heaven knows what those witch doctors will want to do with your mind."
He sighed. "Sorry. I didn't mean to insult your customs, or your healers. But we need you here, Spock."
He heard himself think, *I need you.* He realized just how much he would miss the tall, dark, blue-clad figure if he left the ship, and decided that he wouldn't have it.
"Stay with us, Spock. I'll help you. I'll do anything I possibly can to help."
Spock showed a hint of surprise at the quiet intensity in the doctor's voice. After a while he spoke, slowly.
"I could try some meditating techniques on my own -- but assistance from a friend would not be unwelcome. You might, however, find me unbearable for some time."
McCoy's eyes lit up. "I'll bear with you, Spock. I'll bear with you for as long as it takes. And then some more."
They were silent for a while, looking steadily into each other's eyes.
*Human logic*, Spock thought, *will always escape me. Why do they describe the colour blue as a cold colour?*
****
A few months later, James T. Kirk smiled at a familiar figure in the corridor.
"Bones! I've been looking for Spock. Know where he is?"
McCoy returned the smile. "Spock's waiting in my quarters. I'm on my way there right now. Care to join me?"
"Is Spock all right?" Kirk had never known Spock to socialize with the doctor, and suspected some kind of medical problems that the reserved Vulcan didn't want to bring to sickbay.
"Spock's fine. We're both mighty fine, actually." McCoy looked as if there was more, but didn't say it.
"Bones?"
"All right. We wanted to tell you this together, but you caught me with my -- pants down, in a manner of speaking." McCoy grinned a little sheepishly. "Spock and I are a couple. We're -- I guess you could say -- in love."
The stone statue that once was James T. Kirk did not speak. After a little while, McCoy did.
"Fact is, we're bonded."
"Bonded."
"Yeah. Been a week today."
Kirk finally found the word. "Well, congratulations."
"Like I said, we've been meaning to tell you. Why don't you join us now? We could all have a drink in my quarters, and you can make fun of us as much as you want. You could always tell me I'm not as pretty as T'Pring."
Kirk smiled tentatively. "You and Spock? Now I've heard everything."
"Are you coming along?"
"I have a couple of reports to take care of right now."
"What about tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow's fine. Give my regards to your -- mate?"
"Bondmate. Yeah." The doctor was grinning as sheepishly and happily as it was possible for a human male to grin, as the captain hurried away to do his paperwork.
****
McCoy returned his bondmate's greetings as he stepped inside his cabin. "I ran into Jim on my way here."
"Indeed?"
"He asked about you, and -- well, I sort of told him about us."
McCoy sighed. "Seems you were right all along. I think he was a little shocked at the whole idea, but he tried to be polite about it. Oh yeah, he sends his regards, and his congratulations."
Spock let his fingers lightly stroke the doctor's naked wrist. "The captain is a broad-minded man. In time, he will no doubt get used to the fact that we are together."
"I'm sure you're right." McCoy embraced his Vulcan lover, and his warm blue eyes were smiling.
****
But in the captain's quarters, Starfleet's most respected officer fell back against the wall and let his body slide all the way down to the floor.
His hands tightened into hard fists and his face into a white mask, as half a whisper, half a groan left his throat.
"Spock..."
"Oh god, Spock."
He forced himself to draw a deep breath.
*I never told you.*
Another forced, shaking breath. And another.
*I never told you, and now it's too late.*
THE END