Chapter Text
“What are you doing here, Vulcan? Besides looking like a displaced doorman whose hotel has disappeared behind him.” Leonard McCoy laughed at his own joke for the benefit of the people at the table with him, but his eyes held no humor in them. Far from it, for he was glaring at the new arrival.
McCoy had looked up just a moment ago from the laughing, fun-loving new friends he’d made in this noisy bar to find the First Officer of the Enterprise looking down at him in a very disapproving way. McCoy liked the noise and the laughter around him. It helped him to forget, if only for a little while, his overwhelming personal problems. And then this, this, character from out of his real life had shown up to ruin the soothing illusion.
“Spock, did anyone ever tell you that you would’ve made a very good raven for Edgar Allan Poe? Or a judge at the Salem Witch Trials? None of them had a sense of humor, either, or approved of anyone who did.” McCoy had a thousand of these acid-filled barbs, and the Vulcan was standing still for once and not seeming to want to stop McCoy’s barrage.
“It is time you came back to the Enterprise, Doctor. The hour is late.”
Even the damn voice was boring and condescending, as if it was taking great effort to be bothered by McCoy’s stupid activities. But somebody had to make certain that the crazy bastard didn’t piss his pants in public or do something else equally horrible to embarrass the Enterprise and especially its commanding officer, the Honorable Captain James T. Kirk, so Spock had grudgingly stepped forward. But Spock was going to make certain that everyone clearly understood how honored they should feel that he was making this tremendous sacrifice.
“Well, maybe I’m not ready to do that, Spock. Maybe I want to stay here with my new friends and have some more social time with them. What do you think about that?!”
“It is neither the time nor the place to be discussing issues such as these.”
“Don’t know why not! Anything you want to say to me, you can say in front of my friends here. Isn't that so?" he asked, and a chorus of assenting voices echoed behind him.
“I do not wish to argue, Doctor.”
“Then get lost! Go away! Scoot! Skedaddle! Vamoose! Leave me alone!”
“Doctor--”
“You aren’t wanted here! Got that?! You aren’t wanted! Here or anywhere else! You aren‘t one of us. You never have been. You never will be. Just go back to wherever you came from and leave us Earthlings alone! I know that this Earthling is damn tired of your constant interfering!”
Something went over Spock’s face then before he had a chance to snuff it out. “Very well. I will tell your friends from the Enterprise that you are here.” Spock turned and left.
“Well, I thought he’d never leave!” McCoy said to the group around him, and the hangers-on laughed.
McCoy awoke and groaned. His head was killing him. Every time he woke up in this condition, he swore it would be his last. But yet, here he was again, with another hangover.
He had no recollection of how he had gotten in his bed. There seemed to be a memory of Jim Kirk and Scotty coming to get him, but he wasn’t certain. And before them, there had been Spock, that damn interfering alien! The guy must be part birddog, because he could always seem to be able to find McCoy, no matter where McCoy tried to hide.
He sat on the side of his bed and saw the coffee carafe sitting nearby. The drink of the gods-- excluding alcohol, that is. He saw a covered container and figured he’d find croissants and fruit preserves under the cover. Yep, sure was. And he was hungry, too, but he knew he had enough crow to eat to take care of his food allotment for days. How they put up with him here on the Enterprise, he didn’t know. But thank goodness, they did. Where would he go if he didn’t have the Enterprise?
But still, he dared his credibility and position on the Starship by doing self-destructive things like drinking himself stupid and running his big mouth. He knew better. At some point, self-preservation should kick in, but he kept daring matters and flaunting his rebel ways. How long could he expect Jim Kirk to keep bailing him out? What would be Kirk’s saturation point?
“Well, Bones, are you back among the land of the living?”
“Yeah, Jim, I must’ve really tied one on. My head feels twice its size.”
“And you took medicine?”
“Medicine can only go so far. Thanks for hauling me back.”
“You’re too valuable to lose by the wayside. I’ll haul you back as many times as it takes.”
“Thanks.” He turned to the other guy in the room, the one whose presence McCoy hadn't acknowledged up until now. “And there’s our man Spock! Just as warm and personable as ever, I see! How’s everything in your perfect world, alien?! How’s the world treating you? Or are you treating the world with your divine presence?! I wonder if the world knows just lucky it is that you're bestowing your infinite favors on it?!” he snarled.
Spock’s eyebrow went up a notch, but he did not answer.
“Bones. Watch it.”
McCoy turned back to Kirk. “Spock labors under no illusions, Jim! He knows what he really is to us: an oddity.”
“Bones, I don’t know what your problem is. Mr. Spock is a valued member of this crew, too. He needs to be treated with respect.”
“Aw, he wouldn’t know what to do with that, Jim. He doesn’t mind it when we tease him.”
“Does he look like he’s enjoying your remarks right now?”
McCoy had to admit that Spock didn't look like he was enjoying himself with all of the negativity being tossed his way by McCoy. His conscience nagged at him, but McCoy managed to shove it aside. “He knows how to hold it in, Jim. He‘s heard that if you frown or smile, it causes wrinkles. That‘s why he‘s going to have a face as smooth as a baby‘s butt when he‘s a hundred. He almost frowned two years ago, and it scared the hell out of him. He hasn‘t gotten over it yet.”
“Maybe you need to rest some more, Dr. McCoy.”
Kirk’s use of his title made McCoy turn his head. He saw the intolerance on Kirk’s face where once there had been amusement and warmth only moments before. “Sorry, Jim.”
“I think you should say that to Mr. Spock.”
McCoy frowned. Jim was serious. What the hell?! Jim wanted him to apologize?! To the alien?!
“That is unnecessary, Captain,” Spock interceded. “Now, if you gentlemen will excuse me?” Spock turned and left.
“What in the hell is wrong with you, Bones?! Now Spock is covering for you.”
“I didn’t ask him to do that!” McCoy snorted.
“I’ve never known you to be prejudiced, so it isn‘t that. What about Spock that bothers you?”
“Maybe it’s because he’s so damn perfect!” McCoy blurted out before he thought. Then he wondered if that was the truth.
“I’m sure that Spock would disagree with that assessment. He knows that he‘s far from being perfect.”
“Then why does he act like it?! Have you ever seen anyone else who acts the way he does?! Like he had the world by the ass?!”
“Yes, I have,” Kirk answered softly. “Someone I'm personally acquainted with, in fact. Me.”
“Well, you’ve got a reason,” McCoy grumbled, trying to backtrack. “You do have the world by the ass. The whole universe, in fact.”
“That’s one man’s opinion,” Kirk tried to say modestly.
“That’s more than one man’s opinion,” McCoy argued. “And most women‘s.”
“Well, I, ah, do what I can,” Kirk said with the shy smile that got him most anything he wanted. “Especially with the ladies.”
“You should have your own planet.”
“What for, Bones? Why would I have my own planet?” Kirk was beginning to like this bullshitting party. It was more fun than the heavy angst they were all experiencing only a few short moments ago.
“To have enough room to raise all of the children you must be breeding.”
“Sadly, I won’t know most of my children. A lot of other guys are going to be raising them as their own.”
“Breed them and leave them. Sounds like a win-win proposition to me.”
“Sometimes.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean. I can’t even seem to be there to help raise one little girl of my own.”
“Some guys are better cut out for it than others.” He studied his friend. “I think that you’re in line for some shore time.”
“Not really for awhile, Jim.”
“It’s been longer than you think. Go see Joanna. She‘s getting older everyday,” Kirk said softly. “Do it for the helluva it, if nothing else. Do it for us guys who will never get to know that we even have kids.”
“I don’t know, Jim--”
“You need a change of pace. I believe that Mr. Spock does, too. He needs to see his people again.”
McCoy smirked. “He would ask for something like that? To see his people again?”
“He didn’t. But that’s not what I said. I said that he needs to see his people again. Like you, he doesn’t realize it. You both need to cultivate your roots and keep them healthy so that you can go on with your lives. You can’t turn your back on what you are.”
“Aren’t you the poetic one?!” McCoy challenged. “Where did you get your degree in psychology?!”
“The same place you did, Bones,” Kirk answered softly. “But it didn’t come from any educational institution. It’s from living life and treating your fellow man kindly. It’s just decency, Bones. I think that you need to find some of that back. Today you were attacking Spock just because he‘s different, or you don‘t understand him, or who knows why. But where will you go from there? Women? Asians? Anyone who‘s different from you?”
McCoy looked disgusted with himself. “I don’t know where I got so jaded. I‘m a doctor, damn it! I‘m supposed to nurture life, not abuse it!”
“You’ve been beaten up quite a lot by Life, Bones. You’ve bent some under the test and you’ve turned to drinking because of it. It’s given you a sharp tongue.”
McCoy rolled his eyes. “Maybe I’ve got a reason.”
“That’s what I’m saying. All of the trouble you’ve been through has made you self-centered and consumed by yourself. And bitter. And you’ve been focusing that bitterness on Spock.” Kirk saw McCoy do an eye roll, but he kept on talking. “Maybe you don’t even realize that you’re doing it, but you’ve really been vicious to him.”
“Vicious?! He must like it, because he sure as hell seems to be there every time I turn around.”
“He thinks you need his help, Bones. He feels sorry for you.”
“Him?! Feeling sorry for me?! The guy with all of his crazy, mixed-up problems feels sorry for me?!”
“That’s right, Bones. It's called empathy and compassion."
McCoy snorted with disdain and did the eyeroll thing again.
"I know," Kirk commiserated. "Crazy, isn’t it? Look. You’re right. He does have a lot of problems. After all, he is an alien to us. Can you imagine what that must feel like? To know that you’re so different from everyone else? Spock isn’t standoffish because he’s judgmental and perfect, Bones. He’s being cautious. You would, too, if you were in similar circumstances. He’s trying to be helpful to us and do his job, but he has a lot of personal feelings that he’s coping with. For starters, he’s a half-breed, so he feels inferior to both sides of his heritage.”
McCoy frowned. “He has no reason to be thinking that way.”
“See? You understand that much about him! That’s why there’s hope for you yet.“
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.“
“Life’s been rough, but it hasn’t broken you. Not yet. And I don’t want it to. That’s why I think you need some time away from everything. So does Spock need a break, but for different reasons.”
McCoy snorted. “What good would it be for a machine to try to relate to someone?! I don’t know how his parents can take his behavior, especially his mother since she's an Earthling.”
“Mr. Spock wasn’t born that way, Bones. He knew so much prejudice from the Vulcans for being a half-breed. His upbringing has molded him into the person we know. He came to Starfleet, determined to excel. He was finally being judged on what he could do, instead of what he was. He thinks that he has to be perfect, or he will shatter from the effort. I think he also does not want to disappoint me. And all I really want is for him to be happy and adjusted.”
“You’ve taken on quite a bit to be his friend.”
“I believe that he’d like to be your friend, too.”
“I don’t know how you got that idea!” McCoy snorted.
“You know, if you both could just sit down and talk things out, you might learn to understand each other.”
“That isn’t about to happen! Have you ever seen him pal up with anyone? Just for the helluva it? That isn’t really his thing.”
“I know. But he’s loyal and trustworthy and tenacious.”
“So is a bulldog,” McCoy said stubbornly.
“He worries about you, Bones. We both do.”
“I must be in one helluva shape if that poor bastard worries about me,” McCoy muttered.
“He sees how self-destructive you are to yourself.”
“I appreciate your concern, both of you, but I can take care of it.”
“No, you can’t, Bones. At least, you aren’t.”
“Alright, so I’m not,” McCoy conceded. "So, sue me."
“That’s why you’re going on shore leave. It might help you to get a new perspective.” Kirk got a hard glint in his eyes, his commander look. “I‘m not asking, Doctor. I‘m telling. Get yourself straightened out, so you can go on to the next stage of the process.“
“And that is?“
“Making peace with Mr. Spock.”
McCoy huffed, but held his tongue.
“I don‘t want to lose either one of you, and you‘re going to learn to not only get along with each other, but be friends.” He held up his hand to silence McCoy. “I need you both as my chief officers, crucial advisers, and personal friends. I‘m not doing without, so pack your bags, Dr. McCoy. You‘re going on shore leave. And you're going to come back with a smile on your face and your sweet cheeks in a chair and ready to make all kinds of concessions to keep me happy. Or you and the Vulcan will become roommates in the darkest cell in the brig. It will be in such an obscure corner that sunlight will have to be piped in for you. You'll forget what starlight or other people look like. Your cell will be so small that a ballroom will be a distant memory.”
"We've done nothing wrong."
"Outside of driving me crazy? Oh, I'd find some infraction, you can depend on that. I can get very creative."
McCoy looked at his commanding officer. He knew that Kirk couldn't really carry out his threats, but he could make life miserable for himself and Spock. Kirk looked awfully adamant. There was only one thing left to do.
“Yes, Sir,” McCoy answered. “I’ll make travel arrangements.”
Kirk relaxed and grinned. “Good. I knew you’d see things my way, Bones. And, oh, yeah. Have fun!”
Earth had a hard light to it, much as tree leaves look on a hot summer afternoon. The whole damn planet had the same feel to it, too, as if it was in a vacuum. Maybe it really wasn’t that way, but that’s the way it looked and felt to Leonard McCoy as he arrived home on shore leave. McCoy couldn‘t get his eyes to adjust to the light. But then he realized it was because he was used to the soft starlight of space. Earth was foreign to him, and space was natural. What in the hell was the world coming to?! McCoy had to get used to his own home planet again. That fact, and the fact that Jim Kirk had been right about a need for shore leave sobered McCoy more than any evangelist after the redemption of his soul could have done.
Of course, Joanna wasn’t at home. She was in summer camp, somewhere deep in the Appalachian Mountains where she was learning Native American lore, crafts, heritage, and life styles. It had been a wonderful opportunity for their daughter, Jocelyn explained to McCoy carefully as if he was a simpleton who didn‘t understand about privilege and advantage. He got the hidden message that Joanna was attending this camp with daughters of upper-crust society people, and she didn‘t need to have her stumble-bum of a father around to mess up her chances. He also understood that the exposure to the upper-crust daughters was the real benefit of the summer camp, not learning and duplicating Native American lifestyles of six hundred years before. Hell, if Joanna stayed around her own mother long enough, she might turn into the same opportunist, social climbing prig that Jocelyn had seemed to become.
McCoy tried to be kind in his thinking of Jocelyn. It couldn’t be easy for her to be the only biological parent around for Joanna. And any glance in a mirror would show Jocelyn that her own life was slipping away. That surely hadn’t been in any scenario that Jocelyn had envisioned for herself when she was young and idealistic and full of dreams.
But McCoy wasn’t here to soothe Jocelyn’s feelings. He needed nurturing himself, but he realized that he wouldn’t be getting it with his ex-wife. Everything that came out of her mouth directed toward him came out as barbed. Not that he blamed her, but he just needed some understanding so badly.
For the rest of the month he bummed around the United States, sometimes not really realizing where he was, or why. For instance, why would he go to the Black Hills in South Dakota in summer during a drought? The Bad Lands were nearby, and the area deserved its name. McCoy stood in the doorway of a motel located in some town east of Rapid City and wondered if he could ever find a lonelier spot on Earth. And the answer came thundering back to him. Yes, he could. At the home of his ex-wife.
The Earth was no longer his home. Nothing felt right down there anymore. Where he belonged wasn’t even on solid ground, but flying around in some Starship somewhere out in space. And that sobered the hell out of Leonard McCoy, because he was no great lover of space. But like it or not, that was where his home was now located. And so was most of his family.
So, maybe he’d better be getting on home before they took the welcome mat off the doorstep.
That thought almost gave him peace.
Almost.