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Leonard was alive.
In the days after being cured from xenopolycythemia, it was sometimes hard to internalize that he was still alive. He was okay. He wasn’t dying.
He’d known for a few weeks what was going on. He’d felt like shit, you know, obviously something was wrong. And he knew when he sent those tests out that they’d come back positive.
Going from accepting his own death to everything being fine again was an aggressive shift.
He kept randomly thinking shit like might as well, since I’m gonna die soon before remembering oh, right, he was cured.
The rot in his blood was gone.
Some days he thought he could still feel it coursing through his veins.
He was laying on his bed during one such day when Jim buzzed at the door.
“Can I come in, Bones?” he called.
“Yeah,” said Leonard, not moving from where he was.
The doors hissed open, and Jim came in, followed by Spock. Jim had his ‘concerned but trying to hide it’ face on (Leonard saw that one a lot), and Spock had his ‘concerned but trying to hide it because Vulcans don’t feel concern and I’m a stubborn idiot’ face. He had his hands clasped behind his back.
“What the hell do you goobers want?” Leonard deadpanned, propping himself up on his elbows briefly before deciding it was too much effort for his decaying bones (your bones are not decaying, get a fucking grip).
“Are you doing okay, Bones?” said Jim nervously. “You’ve been kinda weird since Yonada.”
“What the fuck do you think?” Leonard burst, frustrated but not knowing why. “I just found out I’m gonna die.”
“You are not going to die,” said Spock. “Your xenopolycythemia has been cured.”
“I know,” he snapped.
“Do you?” said Spock, raising an eyebrow.
“Yes, you fucking half-Human asshole, I do!” he said, and regretted it immediately when he saw Spock’s eyes glaze over and go into Super-Vulcan mode. “Sorry, Spock, I just…”
“I understand, Doctor,” Spock said, infuriatingly Vulcan, and Leonard sat up.
“No, you don’t!” he exclaimed. “You have no idea!” He buried his head in his hands, taking a deep breath. “I’m sorry I snapped at you guys,” he said. “It’s just hard.”
Jim sat down next to him. Spock stayed standing, but moved closer, which was kind of a lot for him, so Leonard appreciated it nonetheless. “Tell me,” said Jim softly, pressing their shoulders together. Leonard sighed. He loved him so much.
“I dunno… emotional whiplash, I guess,” he said. “I’d known I was going to die for a solid bit, you know, so I guess it’s kinda hard to remember I’m fine.”
“That sounds hard,” said Jim, and Leonard wanted to cry because Jim was so sweet, and Spock was looking at him with those stupid big brown eyes of his full of concern and care and fuck, why did he have to love them so much.
“It is,” he said, and choked on his words.
“You are here, and you are alive,” said Spock, quietly, comfortingly, and it’s enough to push Leonard off the edge.
His breath hitched, and tears began to fall. “God fucking dammit,” he sniffed. “You guys are criminally sweet.”
They stayed together for a while. And with them near, Leonard felt alive again.