Dr. Leonard McCoy has left the Enterprise. (just_bones) wrote in thedoorway, @ 2013-03-13 21:49:00 |
|
|||
Leonard McCoy, in general, was a mess of contradictions. He was deathly afraid of space and flying, yet he worked aboard a starship. Nothing frustrated him more than the stupidity and ignorance of other people, yet he’d dedicated his life to fixing their ails. Perhaps most obviously, he mouthed off at random, shameless in his opinions, but when something personally affected him, or heaven forbid his feelings, he tended to ignore those sentiments altogether. Which is how he found himself pacing outside of Kitty’s apartment, debating whether he should actually go inside or just go home and try to go to bed early. But he finally knocked on her door because he knew that he’d go crazy if he kept all of his thoughts to himself. Besides, Kitty was more than smart, and she was a woman, Leonard was sure that she’d managed to put a few things together from the conversations they’d shared. Still, there was something about verbalizing all of his thoughts that actually made them real, and the prospect was still rather overwhelming to McCoy. Kitty was surprised when she saw his message, because it seemed … distraught, for lack of a better term. For Leonard it was distraught. He usually bottled those feelings up tight, so she knew if he needed to talk, he had a very good reason for it. She was being sincere when she said she was a good listener. She could chat chat chat chat all day long, but she lived with a group of people with a lot of complicated emotions and problems. Active listening was key to getting by. The apartment was clean, another thing learned by living with a lot of people, but it was homey and had stacks of books and DVDs in alphabetical order. Kitty had a variety of tastes so it could be anywhere from science fiction to horror to romcoms in there. Whatever caught her attention. She had several computers, two she built herself, and she closed one of the laptops when she heard the knock. “Hey there,” she said when she opened the door and gestured for him to go inside. She actively stopped herself from teasing, since this was serious business. Probably. Or maybe he was bored. She was still learning to read him. “You want anything to drink? I’ve got water, tea, coffee, whiskey, vodka, soda, juice. Probably other things.” “Good evening, Kitty,” McCoy said with a nod when she let him into the apartment. He took a quick inventory of his surroundings. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected Kitty’s apartment would look like, but he wouldn’t have imagined it like this. He was tempted to ask for a whiskey, but he’d gotten himself into trouble on Friday by drinking, so he decided against it. “I’m already imposing on you as it is, so thank you, but no,” he said. And then Leonard was left to presumably spill his guts. Well, he’d take a seat first, so he occupied himself with getting comfortable on the sofa and trying to appear casual. He was sure that he was failing miserably. Whatever. “First, I’m sure I don’t need to say it, but I’m terrible at this sort of shit, especially when I’m sober,” he explained. “But I’ve had one hell of a week, and the weekend didn’t really offer any sort of relief, either.” He was used to hearing about the problems that other people had, then doing what he could to solve them. McCoy didn’t have as much of an issue admitting to his own personal failings as other people did. Instead, his difficulty was with the idea of taking those problems to other people because admitting in part that he couldn’t solve his own problems led him to question his own role. “It relates to some other things that we discussed around Valentine’s Day,” he indicated, hoping that would spark some recognition for Kitty. Her room was larger than a lot of others because she was a Floor Assistant. There were some perks to being responsible! Plus she had a larger living room for if someone needed to stop by to talk to her about anything. Kitty had an open door policy, although she made sure to lock the door when he came in. Just so one of her people didn’t come bursting in to ask something. “Well let me know if you change your mind. Or you can help yourself. Mi casa es tu casa.” Kitty figured staring at him when he talked wasn’t going to make him feel comfortable, so she settled down on the couch next to him. Not too close, reasonable personal boundary distance, and tucked her feet up under her so she could face him. “You’re talking about the pie that Jim got you for Valentine’s Day,” she said bluntly. Yeah. She wasn’t dumb. Not by any stretch of the word. She could read between the lines and she knew enough about the two of them to make that very easy conclusion. “Did you figure out what it meant yet?” That would explain why he was upset about it. So maybe he was ready to talk about it for real. She waited for him to continue from there. It was his ball game. “Well, not just the cobbler, but yeah, I guess that’s what it’s about,” McCoy replied. He was relieved that Kitty chose to sit next to him, instead of across from him. It felt less like an interrogation that way, and it was clear that this wasn’t her first time acting as a sounding board. It was nice, comfortable. Leonard leaned forward, situating his elbows on his knees before he tilted his head to look back at Kitty. “Nothing, other than what it was,” he answered, trying to hide the tinge of disappointment from his voice. He chose to think that it wasn’t his fault for reading into a thoughtful and well-chosen Valentine’s Day gift. “Well, I shouldn’t say that it was nothing, just not what I wanted it to mean,” he corrected plainly. He shook his head, wondering how his life had taken this turn, where he was constantly talking to his newest friend about his life’s heartaches. “We had another conversation on Friday night, while we were out with some of the other refugees. It wouldn’t have taken the turn that it did if I hadn’t had so much to drink, but I can’t say that I regret it,” Leonard went on. He hadn’t entirely decided if he was going to put Kitty through his version of events-- the specifics were a bit fuzzy for him-- but the implications of that conversation had definitely stuck with him. Kitty nodded while he talked, because she knew exactly what he meant. He wanted the cobbler to mean something, since it was personal and on Valentine’s Day, but now he didn’t think it was for the same reason. She didn’t know yet what her analysis was of the situation. Jim was a very thoughtful guy. He sent her flowers because they were friends. It wasn’t anything more than that. He liked to make his friends smile, so he could’ve been doing that for Leonard, and everyone knew Jim Kirk wasn’t big on commitments. That was the fiction, and so far she’d seen it in reality too. “Ooooh, drunk confessions, never the best idea. Or sometimes good? Not sure yet.” She drunk texted him and Jim, but that was just to chat. They did get a little honest about her past relationships, but that was just personal talk. Not a confession. She ran her fingers through her hair and then started to pull it up into a pony tail. “Okay so you guys went out, you had one too many drinks, and this led to ….?” “We started talking about sex,” Leonard answered. “Well, not in the strictest sense. Relationships too, how he’s got no problem with taking somebody to bed and leaving it there, and I don’t have a problem with anybody who does that, it’s just not what I tend to do. How I’m obviously not getting laid, which is fine, it’s fine...” McCoy trailed off. He hid his face in his hands, scrunching his eyes closed as he wracked his brain trying to remember the exact turn the conversation had taken next. “Anyway, at some point I was idiot enough to ask him what he’d do if he ever found somebody who made him want more than casual sex, and I’m sure you can guess how that went,” he finally said, his voice tinged with the regret and a small amount of bitterness. “I’d never asked him something like that outright before, and on some level I know I never had because I knew I wouldn’t like the sort of answer I’d get,” he added before he turned to look back at Kitty. “Welcome to the ranks of the non-promiscuous. But then again I’d guess you’ve been here a long time.” Leonard struck her as the type to be serious about these things, even outside of the fact she knew he married twice and was very serious with both. He wasn’t a green alien in every bed sort of guy. She was much the same. Two boyfriends. Two loves. That was it. “If you wanted to get laid, you’d get laid.” It wouldn’t take much, since he was handsome and charming in his own way. And she figured he knew that. She frowned and hooked her fingers together, thoughtfully tugging on them while she considered what he said. “Okay, no, I don’t guess how that went. I can see you think it went bad, but Jim’s tough to read sometimes. Especially by someone who is in lo---” She hesitated, since assuming that much was maybe too personal for Leonard. “You know what I mean. So you asked him that, he said he didn’t think anyone would make him want more and/or hadn’t met anyone who did so far, right?” “I wouldn’t exactly say that, I went the stereotypical route of consoling myself after the divorce was finalized,” he explained, a wry smile on his face. Of course, Pike had found him at the end of the spiral, when he’d needed somebody to scrape him off the floor. “But that was years ago,” he said. He’d started at the Academy, met Jim, and while both of those things happened at the same time, he’d chosen to attribute his decrease in sexual promiscuity to his feelings regarding the latter. That and he was damn exhausted and tired most of the time. “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” McCoy replied, sure that he was flush from Kitty’s words. He couldn’t help the look that he shot Kitty, glad that she chose to cut herself off when she did. Granted, he could have misinterpreted Jim’s meaning. Not only was he Leonard McCoy, the man who always assumed the worst, but he was also drunk, which did nothing to help him in that situation. “He said that he loved the ship, that was what he’d always wanted, and if he were with somebody, that person would have to understand that he loved the ship more. Then he said that if he really loved somebody, he wouldn’t let them play second fiddle to the ship just for him, so he’d send that person my way,” Leonard explained. He hadn’t planned on laying it all out like that for Kitty, but once he’d started, he couldn’t stop. Leonard’s heart pounded in his chest, recounting the details of that conversation wasn’t his idea of a good time. But more than that, it brought on the realization that the things he loved the best about Jim-- his commitment to his crew, his single-minded determination, his ability to fulfill his duties-- were the things that dictated Jim’s priorities to first his ship, and then his personal life. Kitty laughed when he admitted he went a little wild after the divorce. That was probably expected, and if it got him partly through it, all the better. She wasn’t the judgy type. Logan was a total manwhore, which was funny since he was short and hairy and so gruff. But women flocked to him. “Leonard McCoy, secret playboy.” She teased him and shrugged when he thanked her. “Just speaking the truth. You’ve got fan clubs. You know the deal.” She thought he had to know he wasn’t exactly hard on the eyes. That did sound right. It fleshed out the discussion, it wasn’t just Jim being Jim, he had his reasons for it. There was one part that annoyed her though, causing her expression to turn to a frown. “He said he’d send people who wanted him to you? That’s kind of gross. Like you’re some sort of second choice?” Kitty didn’t know she echoed Leonard’s own reaction to it, but it made sense. She figured Jim didn’t mean it that way. He was too good of a friend. Sometimes he didn’t think through his words. “I don’t know. Could you be second string to a ship? Sounds like it’d be that person’s decision whether they could accept that. He’s a leader. Leaders have to put the greater good over individual feelings, that’s why they’re chosen for it. If you or anyone else said that was good enough for them, he can’t really choose that for them. Though he could say no to it.” She brushed a few stray strands of hair that fell into her face. She had bangs of a sort so it was always happening. The pain of having a particular hair style. “It’s weird, that almost sounds like he doesn’t know about your feelings for him. I don’t think he’d say that sending people to you instead thing if he knew what you felt.” Or at least she hoped now, because damn. “Hardly. It was more like Leonard McCoy, drunk and shameless,” he corrected, rolling his eyes. He didn’t mind that Kitty was laughing. He’d learned not to take that that time in his life too seriously, especially since he had managed to get his life back on track. “I told him I didn’t want to be some goddamn consolation prize, but he said that it wasn’t like that. Because he thinks I can do all the things a good partner’s supposed to do, like remember anniversaries, talk about the day, things that some people swoon over-- his words, not mine,” McCoy explained to her. And even then, the words tasted sour on his tongue. “No, I don’t want to be second,” Leonard said, stating the root of his current feelings of heartache. He’d known that all along, and the idea of that kind of compromise nearly repulsed him. That was how things had been with the ex: his job had been his first priority, and there was always an excuse to support that decision. He had to get through his residency, he had to take on a new project, he had to get more operating hours, he had to save his father’s life. It had ultimately ruined his marriage, and it was a hard lesson to learn. He wasn’t willing to put himself through that again, and he wasn’t sure that he was willing to allow any exceptions. “And that’s the part that makes me the saddest,” he admitted with a shrug. “But it carries into our friendship, too, doesn’t it? It’s my duty to care for him above all others because he’s my captain, but if Pike were the captain, I were the CMO, and he and Jim came in with the same injury, I’d take care of Jim first. Am I reading too much into it if I think he wouldn’t do the same thing for me with the way our relationship is now?” McCoy asked. He’d never heard Jim speak so plainly about his priorities, even though it should’ve been blatantly obvious to Leonard what they were. “Regardless, I’m glad I never made any grand declarations now. I don’t need that shit hanging in the air whenever he’s around.” Not to mention all of the things that he’d never told Jim, things that Kitty and other fans knew about him and his past. “Not entirely shameless.” Not if he remembered and considered himself an idiot during those times. “I just threw myself into work and school instead.” Kitty didn’t bring up the point that when a woman acted that way she got plenty of side eyes, because it was irrelevant and they didn’t need to head into social justice discussions. Much more important things to be talking about. It wasn’t in her nature to do that, plain and simple. “I can’t argue with him there, but he probably should’ve worded it better.” Leonard was the type of guy who would probably do the proper things in a relationship. His marriage didn’t work out, but he learned from it and beyond that she thought he was a romantic of sorts. This conversation was proving it too. Her heart went out to him. She could sense his pain, and she reached out to take his hand, squeezing it so he knew she was there. She sympathized. “I’m sorry. I’m glad you’re not willing to compromise if that’s what you want. It would just cause more troubles in the long run.” If he agreed to try it anyway and a few months down the line realized he wanted more, it would be a much tougher spot to be in. “I don’t think Jim knows what he would do if he was in that position. His instinct in the moment might be different than he expects. He’s not someone who can easily leave a man behind.” She didn’t point out that he went out of his way to save Spock in the first movie, or that in the new one it looked like he was going to jeopardize the Enterprise for a rescue. Or maybe he wouldn’t. “Being a Captain means a lot to him. It symbolizes so many things. I don’t think that romantic love could compare, but that doesn’t mean he’s incapable of it. He cares about you, you’re his best friend. Maybe a part of him doesn’t want to risk complicating a relationship that matters this much to him. Jim doesn’t let many people get close to him. Hell, I think you might be the only person who is really close to him.” The X-Men were always in some kind of war situation, so they made a lot of dramatic and bad decisions in the heat of the moment. The fall out was a disaster, but they kept it together because of family. “Think about what would happen if you guys gave it a try and it didn’t work out.” “Thanks, Kitty,” McCoy replied quietly. As difficult as it was for him to accept advice from others, or rely on other people to help him solve his own problems, it was even more difficult for him to accept this sort of comfort. Especially from a slip of a girl-- and McCoy knew that Kitty would resent that description, but he was in his own head, dammit-- like Kitty who should’ve been sharing her problems with him. But he squeezed her hand, accepting the gesture without comment. “I trust Jim’s instincts, he’s proved that his gut’s something worth following, but when he’s rationalized his priorities the way he has, I don’t think I want to put myself in the place of hoping that his instincts fall in my favor,” McCoy explained, shaking his head. And maybe he didn’t really care for Jim the way that he thought he did if he wasn’t willing to be that vulnerable himself. He’d tried to tamp down on those sorts of thoughts because the last thing that he wanted to do was question his friendship with Jim, but now, McCoy couldn’t help himself. It was his nature to always assume the worst, most people who met him knew that about him, but he was still able to see the best parts of people. He trusted Jim with his life, he didn’t think that would ever change, but he couldn’t shake the thought of where he mattered more to the other man-- when he was his best friend, or his CMO. “I’d like to think that a failed relationship wouldn’t ruin everything we’ve got now, but that’s just wishful thinking. Regardless, it doesn’t matter now. I don’t need any more convincing than that,” he finally said. He gave Kitty’s hand another squeeze before he dropped it, raising both of his hands back to his face to clear his eyes. “Well, all my shit’s out there on the table, anything you want to add while we’re feeling sappy?” he asked, trying to force a smile as he leaned back into his seat. “Any time, Leonard,” Kitty replied softly, squeezing his hand back. She was loyal to a fault when it came to her friends. She’d put her life on the line for a lot of reasons. To save the world, to save people who didn’t deserve it, to get revenge, but most of all for the people she cared about. Leonard McCoy used to be a character she admired on a show she loved. This Leonard was a real person, and he was a real friend. “I’m glad you came to me instead of bottling it up more. Or heading into any more bottles.” She let him take his hand back and breath a little easier. Some of the weight was hopefully off his chest. “Just remember that things seem hard now, but they’ll get better. You have a profound relationship with Jim, no matter what that pans out to be. It’s important to you both. And your life doesn’t start and end with him, even if it feels that way sometimes. You’ve got the clinic and the crew and new friends. A lot of people like you here, they count on you, you could start doing the same, when you’re ready. It might not be what you hoped for, but it’s something.” Kitty let that lie and smiled at him, winking. “Don’t give me that weaksauce smile. I’m holding out for the real deal. I expect it to be radiant and full of rainbows.” She was teasing him now to let him ease down from the emotional exhaustion. “You’re right,” Leonard said, although he couldn’t help the way that his brows inched closer together in concentration. Very often he did feel like his life-- or the life he was currently living-- did begin and end with Jim. True, it was Pike who’d recruited them both to Starfleet, but Jim was the first friend that he’d made, and he’d turned out to be the best friend that Leonard had ever had. While Jim wasn’t his whole life, he was a large part of who he was now, and Kitty was right-- it wasn’t worth the risk. “How’d you get to be so smart, kid?” McCoy asked as he stretched both of his arms out over the back of the couch. Maybe he was beginning to close himself off again, but he was certainly more relaxed now that he’d gotten the worst of his worries off of his chest. “And weaksauce isn’t even a word,” he said, rolling his eyes. “But don’t fault me when you realize that you’ve set your expectations too high,” Leonard added, his smile brightening a bit. “I’m actually a genius. High IQ, precocious, but more importantly, I’m a survivor. And you know the scrappy ones are always the smartest.” Leonard was scrappy himself, rough around the edges. He could probably get into a bar fight and hold his own. She waved her hand around her face, framing it. “Not just a pretty face. I know, shock. I’m not sure I can say the same for you.” She did promise to be a good ear, and she was one, but she figured he could use a little more of their bantering back to push away the awkwardness. He wasn’t the type of guy who was comfortable being vulnerable with someone. So getting back to the status quo worked for them. “Weaksauce is a word, it’s in urbandictionary.com. How old are you?” She grinned more when she saw his smile deepen, and pointed at him. “Caught you. Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone. I’m not a squealer.” Kitty meant that on two levels, she was joking … but she was also reassuring him that she wouldn’t share what he told her. Not with anyone. Leonard shook his head in mock condescension as Kitty spoke. He seemed to always attract people like Kitty and Jim, and hell, the ex to a certain extent: too many brains to know what to do with, brilliant without even having to try, beautiful to a fault, and scrappy, like Kitty had said. “Well, tell me how you really feel about yourself,” he replied with a smile. He didn’t have much to say about his own pretty face-- not that he saw himself in remotely that way. “And, of course, if it’s on the Internet, it must be true,” he replied. Leonard trusted Kitty, he wouldn’t have come to her with his tale to tell if he didn’t trust her, that much was certain. “Thanks, darling. I appreciate it,” he said, giving her a pat on the back. In truth, he would’ve rather just given himself a coronary by bottling it up than spill his guts to somebody he didn’t trust because then he’d just have to worry about it all getting back to Jim. But so long as she didn’t decide that it was a good idea to try to play matchmaker, Leonard felt like his secrets were safe with Kitty. At least now maybe he’d be able to put all of it out of his own mind for a little while. |