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Leonard barged into Jim’s quarters, hair still damp from his shower, and looked around in a near-panic. He lost a patient, a young one who had no business dying, much less getting hurt the way she did, and even though he did more than enough, Leonard still blamed himself. It was their first year of their mission, their first year post-Khan, and Leonard was still recovering from that whole incident. Hell, he was still recovering from the Vulcan genocide. Leonard heard the ringing in his ears before his tunnel vision started, before he found Jim.
“Leonard.”
“Huh?” Leonard blinked, the room coming back into focus, and looked around for whoever spoke to him. His eyes landed on Spock first, then Jim, the latter looking worried and the former looking indecipherable as usual.
“Sit,” Spock ordered as he gestured to the chair he clearly just vacated. It was right next to Jim, who was busy pushing all their PADDs to the other side of the table.
Leonard nodded and walked forward on autopilot, collapsing into the chair. He knew he should explain himself, but he also knew that Jim already knew, and likely Spock, and—Spock set a mug of tea in front of him and ordered him to drink it. When Leonard finished, Spock got him another. Almost as if he knew exactly how to handle Leonard when he was in one of these states. Feeling a bit better, Leonard decided to find out. “Whoever taught you that particular bedside manner was a good… person. Thanks, Spock.”
“Indeed he was, Doctor.” Spock nodded, a way of confirming his theory perhaps, and went back to his PADDs.
Jim gave Leonard’s shoulder a squeeze. “You going to be okay, Bones? You didn’t respond until Spock said your name; it was like you weren’t really here.”
Leonard patted Jim’s hand and rested his forearms on the table, staring at the tea. It was hot, but not too hot, just enough spice to have flavor but not enough to overwhelm. It was tasty; soothing, with some herbal notes. He ran his thumb along the rim of the mug several times, treating it like a worry stone. Chris definitely talked to Spock, and he was damn thankful to know he had the Vulcan looking out for him when things got bad.
“Bones?”
“Hm? Oh, sorry, yeah. She was too damn young, Jim. Engineering needs to have a long ass talk about hubris, and I want everyone involved with that damn incident written up.” Leonard took another drink, closing his eyes. “I’m just gonna zone out here if y’all don’t mind.”
“That is perfectly acceptable, Doctor. We will take your recommendation under advisement.”
—
The next time it happened was during a particularly traumatic survey mission. The landing party was ambushed by giant humanoids they didn’t see due to their advanced shielding, and half of the science team they sent down was obliterated. Five lives just wiped from existence. Leonard had the slightest chance of saving the security officer with them, but he got to him too late. He tried in vain to revive the man, and Spock and Jim had to drag him away to safety.
Together with the rest of the surviving landing party, they found a cave they could defend and hunkered down until the Enterprise came back in range. Leonard was gone, ears ringing, tunnel vision, the works. He vaguely recognized that Jim was saying something, but it was Spock who got his brain to surface momentarily. An electrolyte pack was put in his hands, which were then directed to his mouth, and he was forced to drink it entirely. It helped the dehydration and the stress and allowed Leonard to notice his surroundings more.
Leonard was in between Jim and Spock, and Jim was frantically trying to send messages out and get reports from the survivors about who attacked them. How many, what kind of weapons, what they looked like, anything that might give them an advantage if there was another skirmish before they were transported out of there. Spock… was taking care of him. Leonard’s cheeks burned with shame at the thought of their first officer babysitting him instead of doing his job. “‘M fine, Spock.”
“I would question your ability to effectively lead sickbay if you were ‘fine,’ Doctor. All who made it to this cave have been treated by you and are safe. You are no longer obligated to remain on alert.” Spock took the empty electrolyte pack from him and shoved something hard and heavy in his hands. “While we do not have adequate supplies, I believe this is a satisfactory substitution.”
Leonard’s thumb moved over the object before he even thought about it. It was smooth, far smoother than the ceramic mug in Jim’s quarters. He looked down to see a crystal, quite a large one, and then looked over at Spock. “I’m gonna need to be mad at you an’ Jim for pullin’ me away.”
“That is acceptable, Doctor.”
—
Year after year, incident after incident, Leonard’s dissociative states lessened, but Spock was there for every one of them. Until he wasn’t. Because Spock was the one threatening to die. Leonard hadn’t been this worried since Altamid, and despite his team ordering him to go back and rest, he stayed by Spock’s biobed. Leonard smoothed his thumbs and fingers over the crystal Spock gave him a lifetime ago to ease his mind, finding no grounding. The stone was broken. He was broken.
Leonard didn’t know when he did it, nor did he understand why, but he put his hand on Spock’s arm. His world cleared, his mind refreshed, and he was able to smash some brain cells together to come up with a solution. Leonard gave Spock’s hand a squeeze, letting him know that a fix was on the way, and he escaped back to his office to start working. Sure enough, an hour later, he was injecting Spock with a hypo that would have a domino effect on the entire virus that was wreaking havoc on his body.
When Spock came to a few hours later, Leonard ran to his side and frantically waved a tricorder over him. “Goddamn, Spock, tryin’ to die on me. You know I didn’t give you permission to die, nor did I give you permission to touch the damn plant that gave you the damn tick that gave you the damn virus.” Leonard fussed with his tricorder when it gave him questionable readings. Spock’s heart rate had jumped, and his brain waves shifted as Leonard talked. It was probably his fault, but Leonard kept up his rant since it wasn’t a danger.
Spock sat up and swung his legs elegantly over the biobed when Leonard ran out of rants. “Is that all, Doctor?”
Leonard looked up from Spock’s chart and really looked at him for the first time since he came in. Not as a patient but as Spock. The name is what threw him. Spock usually called him by his first name when not in a formal setting, and sickbay was never formal. Still, something was off with Spock. He flung his PADD and tricorder onto the biobed and stepped closer, crossing his arms. “Alright, what’s up with ya? The virus fry a few too many brain cells that you forgot my first name?”
“Are you well?” Spock asked, concern plain on his face.
Taken aback, Leonard wasn’t quite sure how to answer that question. He was thrilled that Spock would be okay, but he was also angry at him for being unusually reckless. “No. You almost died, Spock. I’m not well. Why’d you even touch that plant, anyway?”
“Its chemical properties were similar in nature to several other medicinal plants we have encountered. It would be an asset to your research collection.”
Leonard cursed and closed his eyes. Spock nearly got himself killed doing something nice for him, and here he was yelling at the poor man. Still, it was reckless, and Spock didn’t do anything reckless if lives weren’t on the line. Something wasn’t fitting right, and he couldn’t figure it out. “Doesn’t explain why you were so careless with it.”
Spock shifted his gaze, checking out of the conversation. “May I return to my quarters, Doctor?”
“Yeah, yeah, I guess.” Leonard swallowed hard and stepped to the side to allow Spock to pass.
This was wholly unacceptable.
—
Spock did it again, only this time it wasn’t reckless; he was sacrificing himself for Jim and Leonard when a diplomatic mission went awry. Scotty managed to beam them all out of there just in time, and Leonard got to work on Spock immediately, but it was still a close call. He had to hand pump Spock’s heart to maintain rhythm before they were beamed to sickbay. It was the only reason he was alive. That and Leonard’s sheer stubbornness.
After the surgery and several hours of recovery, Leonard found himself at Spock’s bedside staring at his own hands. Though they were no longer stained green, he couldn’t get the image out of his head. Leonard also couldn’t get the thoughts he had while pumping Spock’s heart out of his head. What would he do if Spock died? Spock was just as important, if not more important, than Jim in his life. The end of the five-year mission was coming up. What would he do without them? Without Spock?
Leonard heard shifting, and his head snapped up to see Spock awake, watching him. He ran various checks, noticing the same abnormalities he saw last time, only this time he wasn’t ranting. “Your heart rate is elevated, and your brain waves are spiking.”
“That is to be expected.”
“Oh, that so? Did I miss you gettin’ your medical degree?” Leonard tried for his normal sarcastic tone, but it came out flat. He sighed. “Stop tryin’ to die on me, Spock. This universe would be… too boring without you.” Leonard’s first thought was ‘unbearable,’ but verbalizing that thought scared him.
“Is that all, Doctor?” Spock’s voice was clipped. It was happening again.
Leonard shook his head, and when Spock questioned his reasoning, he had no answer. “What other reason do you want? Because I said so?”
“May I leave, Doctor?”
“No!” Leonard snapped, on the verge of tears. He didn’t know why he was so close to breaking down. Spock was fine; he was just agitated and wanted to go back to his quarters. “Stop calling me ‘doctor.’”
“If that is all, Leonard.”
Leonard bit his lip and clenched his PADD. “You almost died, Spock. You really, truly almost died. I had your goddamn heart in my hands.”
“Then I commend you on your talents as a doctor and thank you for saving my life.”
“God, why do you hate me so much.” Leonard didn’t realize he had said it; he just dropped his shoulders and looked down. He stepped out of the way for Spock to leave, though every cell in his body was screaming at him to stop.
“I do not hate you. It is quite the opposite.” Spock got off the biobed and gave Leonard a curt nod. “I simply cannot be around you when I am in a weakened state.”
Leonard frowned. “Why not? You don’t… feel safe with me?” That hurt, that really hurt. Knowing that someone he considered his best friend didn’t want to be around him when he was injured… Dammit, it was probably because of how many dissociative states Spock helped Leonard through. Probably thought he was a shit doctor and was safer far away from him.
Spock took an aggressive step toward Leonard and forced his chin up before crushing their mouths together in a painful, messy, but wonderful first kiss. “Again, it is quite the opposite.” Spock dropped his hand and turned around, heading for the door of his private room.
Leonard felt a lightbulb go off. A dusty, buzzing lightbulb that hadn’t seen the light since Chris died. Goddamn, he liked the Vulcan romantically, and it appeared the feeling was mutual. Despite being hyped up on the stress hormones, Leonard somehow managed to come up with the words he needed before Spock reached the door. “If you aren’t too busy coming up with creative and dangerous ways to stress me out, do you wanna go on a date?”
Spock stopped abruptly and turned his head. “That would be acceptable.”
—
Since they worked out their feelings for each other, Spock’s care became more intimate and frequent, and it was reciprocated. Jim learned of their relationship change by Leonard barging into Spock’s quarters during a chess match and making a beeline for Spock’s bed. He flung his pants and outer top, leaving his boxer briefs and undershirt, tossed the comforter aside, and crawled underneath the lightest sheet. Leonard vaguely heard a “What the fuck?” but he was out like a light when he heard Spock’s droning voice explaining their change in status.
A few hours later, Leonard woke to the smell of incense and sat up to see Spock meditating. He watched for a few seconds, smiling at how calm his boyfriend looked, and then made the decision to join him. While Leonard still wasn’t used to meditating, Spock was great at reading him and making adjustments for his comfort. Spock was also not a sadist—at least as far as Leonard could tell—and stopped the session whenever Leonard couldn’t sit still any longer.
“Are you well, Leonard?”
“Mm, yeah, nothing bad happened. Just needed a change of scenery before I popped off on someone else.” Leonard leaned over and rested his head on Spock’s shoulder. “Sorry for not noticing or caring ‘bout Jim being here.”
“It is no matter, though I believe he may have been upset with our secrecy.” Spock put his arm around Leonard and started rubbing his back. “Nurse Chapel informed me of the incident. The lieutenant has filed a report against you for your behavior, though I have dismissed it.”
Leonard snorted. “Asshole thought he was invincible, got his friend hurt.”
“Hence the dismissal.” Spock squeezed Leonard close. “You are truly well?”
“Yeah, just… You calm me down. Your smell, your touch, your voice. Didn’t know if you’d be in your quarters, but your smell would be, and I needed to nap off the anger.” Leonard shrugged and rested a hand on Spock’s thigh. “I shoulda asked, though. We haven’t done more than neck on the couch a bit, and I hogged your bed all evening.”
Spock shifted backward, and Leonard was sideways with his head in Spock’s lap in an instant. He looked up to see Spock with his not-grin and sassy eyebrow. “I will comfort you.”
Leonard laughed and shifted so his shoulder wasn’t pinned against Spock’s thigh. “You do a damn fine job of it. Makes it impossible not to love you.”
“Is that an indirect confession of your feelings, Leonard?”
“‘Bout as direct as I want to be.” Leonard traced the design on Spock’s robe. “For now.”
“That will be acceptable,” Spock said as he ran a finger along the curve of Leonard’s ear. “For now.”