Apologies and Thank You's

by Ellen Smock

rating:  G

Disclaimer:  if I owned Star Trek, I wouldn't be looking for a job.

****

Spock walked into Sick Bay.

“You wished to speak with me, Doctor?”

McCoy looked up from the padd he was examining.  “Yes, Spock, thank you for coming.  Can we talk in my office a minute?”

“Certainly, Doctor.”

McCoy could feel Spock's eyes on him as he led the way into the small office and eased himself into his chair.  He tried—but failed—to stop himself from sighing with relief as he sunk into the chair.  He knew Spock heard it.

Turning to Spock he was surprised to catch a look of concern, which was quickly replaced by Spock's normal, impassive face.

“Doctor, I was advised you had been cleared for duty.  It would seem someone has over estimated your recuperation.  You are obviously too tired to perform efficiently.”

McCoy hung his head a moment.  He really hated it when Spock was right.  Heck, he didn't even have the energy to argue with the man.

“You're right, Spock, I am tired.  However, I'm not too tired to work and I want to work.

McCoy braced himself for a comment about him being an illogical human.

Spock surprised him completely.

“I understand, Doctor.  I am sure you are able to recall times when I insisted on working in defiance of your wishes.”

McCoy nodded.  “I guess I can see you're point now.”

“It is a shame the Captain is not present to hear that.”

McCoy looked up in surprise.  That was a joke.  At least, it was a humorous comment.

Spock looked mildly concerned.  McCoy gave a small chuckle and noted that relief flashed over Spock's face for an instant.  That was interesting.  It was almost as if Spock was concerned that his “banter” had failed to be entertaining.

Spock shifted slightly.  “Doctor, you asked me to come here.  I assume there is something you require of me.”

Require of me.  Spock said that a lot.  It seemed impossible that Spock could have self esteem issues, but suddenly McCoy realized that, for any other patient, those words, used that often, would have had him dragging the patient in for counseling.  Putting that thought aside for later consideration, McCoy took a deep breath and dived in.  This was not a conversation he wanted to have, but it was a conversation he had to have, even if he was bone tired and this chair was at least as comfortable as the bed in his quarters.

“No, Spock, I do not require anything of you.  Indeed, I am in your debt.  I want to thank you.”

Spock looked quizzical.  “For what, Doctor.  I am unaware of doing anything to earn your indebtedness.”

“You saved me, Spock.  You saved my life.”

“You refer to my translation of the Fibrini data?”

“Of course.”

“You have already expressed your gratitude for that Doctor.  More is not necessary.”

McCoy smiled a bit, his eyes going to half mast with exhaustion.  “I think it is Spock.  I thanked you for bringing the data back and translating it, but I didn't thank you for saving me.  I know that's why you did it.  You did it to save me.  I should have acknowledged that.”

McCoy expected Spock to attribute it to nothing more than saving a valuable Star Fleet officer.  He'd heard Spock dismiss his own heroic actions as nothing but an economic, logical course of action many times. 

Spock surprised him again.

“I did not want you to die.”

Spock looked distinctly uncomfortable, as if, admitting that was somehow a failing on his part.

“I know Spock. Just like I never want you to die when you get yourself shot or poisoned or have your brain removed or been invaded by an alien, or any of the other horrible things that you've had happen to you.”

Spock's discomfort continued. 

“I never thanked you.”

“What?”

“I never thanked you.  You have saved me countless times, I never thanked you.”

“I'm a doctor, that's what I do.”  Even through his exhaustion he realized Spock needed him.  He had not meant to cause Spock distress, but clearly, that is what had happened.  “Spock, I would save anyone, that's what Doctors do. We don't need to be thanked.”

Spock's expression was guarded.  “Doctor.  If I told you that Vulcans do not require thanks for saving the life of another, because it is simply part of the Vulcan philosophy to do so, what would you say?”

McCoy sighed.

“I'm tired, Spock, as you know.  I get what you're saying.  I do.  I would harass you and challenge you and try to goad you into being grateful for the fact I thanked you.  I get that.”

Spock looked genuinely surprised.

“Yes, you would.”

“I'm sorry Spock.”

“For what?”

“For trying to thank you, for trying to make you acknowledge that you'd done this for me.” McCoy could barely keep his eyes open at this point.  He completely failed to notice Spock leaving his chair and crouching beside McCoy.

Then Spock touched him.  Spock's fingers gently brushed McCoy's brow.

And Spock was there. Looking into his eyes.

“I did not do it for you, Doctor.  I did it for me.  The thought of living on this ship without you is intolerable. I saved you for purely selfish reasons.  Now, I will escort you to your quarters where you will remain until I personally give the order that you are fit for duty, is that understood?”

“Yes, Commander Spock, that is understood.” McCoy muttered sleepily.

Spock half carried McCoy to his cabin, guiding him to the bed, removing his boots and covering him with the blanket.  Spock placed two fingers on McCoy's forehead, paused, concentrating and said “sleep” before leaving.

*****

McCoy slept for 20 hours.

Spock monitored McCoy for 20 hours.  One of the perks of being second in command is access to the security system and Spock did not hesitate to employ it in this case.  When he saw McCoy fully awake,  sitting up, looking around, Spock shut the camera feed down and keyed in the command that released McCoy for duty.

*****

McCoy felt good.  Better than he had in quite awhile.  He'd obviously needed sleep.  Looking around, he found he couldn't remember getting to his cabin. He didn't know why he was still in his uniform. He ran a quick scan with his medical tricorder.  No signs of intoxication, no signs of drugs of any kind.  He had just slept.

He'd needed it.

Showered, teeth brushed, McCoy reached for the depilatory and paused. He remembered.  Spock. 

“I did not do it for you, Doctor.  I did it for me.  The thought of living on this ship without you is intolerable. I saved you for purely selfish reasons.”

Did McCoy imagine that?  Could Spock have actually said that?  And, more importantly, how could he possibly ask Spock about it?

Spock wasn't at breakfast. When the ship was engaged in any sort of dangerous business, Spock was never in the mess hall, but when there was no conflict Spock rigidly adhered to the proscribed meal schedule, even if he didn't always eat a full meal by McCoy's standards.  It was, McCoy reflected, yet another attempt by Spock to appear “normal”.  Today, things were quiet.  McCoy had checked the ship's log.  Nothing of any importance whatsoever was happening.  But still:  Spock wasn't at breakfast.

Kirk, however, was and he was very happy to see McCoy looking healthy and rested for the first time in weeks.

They had an enjoyable time.  McCoy complained bitterly about the sheer caloric mass represented by Kirk's breakfast plate, Kirk argued vehemently for the right of a Star Ship Captain to eat what he wanted.  It was mindlessly familiar and comfortable.

McCoy walked into Sick Bay expecting to find a few mild cases that were being well cared for by his staff and nothing more.  What he found was a very agitated Nurse Chapel. 

“He's waiting for you!”

“Who?”

“Spock!  He's been sitting in there for an hour!”

**well...shit” thought McCoy.  Had he missed a scheduled meeting?

“Fine, Miss Chapel, I will handle it.”

Spock rose as McCoy entered the office.  McCoy nodded. 

“Spock, forgive me, I do not remember having an appointment with you.”

“That is because you do not have an appointment with me, Doctor.  I wanted to speak privately with you and this seemed to be the most expedient way of achieving that goal.”

McCoy froze for a moment....then nodded at Spock to indicate he should sit down.

“Thank you.”  McCoy said, in opening.

“Excuse me?”

“Thank you for taking care of me, for putting me to bed, for watching over me.  I appreciate it.  I needed it.”

“I did not do it for you.”

McCoy took a deep breath. Then another.

“So, that was real?  You really said you saved my life because you couldn't live without me?”

“My actual words were “The thought of living on this ship without you is intolerable.” but I am willing to concede your interpretation.”

McCoy was less stunned by the words than he was the direct, open way Spock was looking at him when he said them.

“Spock...I....”

If possible, Spock's posture became even stiffer than normal.

“I understand, Doctor. We will not speak of this again.”

Spock started to stand but was stopped by McCoy''s words.

“Spock, I love you.”

Spock sunk back into the chair. 

“Leonard?”

McCoy nodded acceptance of the familiarity.

“Leonard, are you sure?  Perhaps you are simply overwhelmed with gratitude for my discovery of the Fabrini medical information.”

McCoy laughed.  McCoy realized he hadn't laughed in weeks, but now, it felt so right.

“No, Spock.  I've felt this way for a long time. I was sure you would hate me for it.”

Spock took his time responding to this announcement. 

“Leonard, you had every right to expect that of me.  I cannot deny the truth of it.  In retrospect, I should have been more open to the human need to express emotions publicly.  I am sorry.”

“I thought we weren't apologizing? Spock”

“No, Doctor, we are not saying Thank You.”

“Okay, well...I'm sorry.  I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier.  But I'm glad I've told you now.”

Spock locked eyes with McCoy.  “As am I .  And, I feel compelled to tell you that I share your feelings.”

McCoy smiled.

“You have no idea, Spock....no idea at all, how happy that makes me.”

Spock looked at McCoy wryly.

“I hope it makes you as happy as I am at the moment.”