#i have to wake up at a reasonable hour tomorrow and clean my room ao the proctor doesnt judge me for my “decor”

[dr-gaytorius]

Idk why I'm so nervous for my embalming theory midterm tomorrow, I've never scored less like like a 90 on any of my assignments and get 100s on most of them, but by god. I feel like I'm going to throw up and die

[qvid-pro-qvo]

need for more

aos!leonard mccoy x female!reader, who’s a nurse on the starship enterprise.

word count: 7091

rating: mature, for medical trauma (blood and gore, injury), angst

part two of more than a game, you and me.

After a few weeks of what you think you want in your relationship, Leonard seems to hint at something more. With the memory of a previous relationship lingering over your head, you pull away from a good thing, wondering if you can ever pick up the pieces.

That wasn’t the last time you went to Dr. McCoy’s – well, Leonard’s – office to kill time between shifts. Or during shifts. Or after shifts. And a couple of times, if it started in one location and ended up in your quarters, well, that was between you two.

But that’s all it was, you reasoned, with the sole confidants you trusted with that kind of information.

“You’re lookin’ like the cat that caught the canary,” Scotty said with a raised brow, your answering shrug not at all deterring him from curiosity even as he was shoulder deep in a nacelle. “Are we sure that there’s nothing more that we need to be discussing?”

“It’s just sex, two consenting adults. All it needs to be.”

“Right,” Christine nodded along, as the two of you chatted in the medication room, the other nurses and aforementioned doctor unable to hear a thing with the sealed sliding door. “And that’s the conclusion you both came to, hmm?”

Well. It wasn’t exactly discussed in depth, that’s for sure.

The thing was, he knew your name now. He knew what kind of shampoo you used because he saw it in the showers he took after a couple of rounds, and you knew how he took his coffee after early morning moments, but talking wasn’t something you did. You never even spent the night. It was a silent agreement. Couldn’t that be all it needed to be? The fact that you thought he looked fucking delicious in a blue Starfleet uniform and he liked the way the regulation whites looked on and off, that couldn’t be the end of it?

It’s not like he dared to let it go any farther. There wasn’t any offer to spend time together without the sex, and you didn’t think it was your place to offer anything when it seemed clear that Leonard’s feelings didn’t proceed past a “good lay.” It was something you kept on the down low, and no one said a damn thing about it.

So you didn’t talk about it. Or, at the very least, you didn’t bring it up as a point of conversation, because at the end of the day it was a good thing that you were comfortable with. Histories didn’t have to repeat themselves, of course. There was a reason Leonard’s eyes had felt like criticism, why a year on one ship was a landmark and anything beyond sex was out of the question.

It was still raw. Ached when you dared to remember.

And then the mission happened, and you had no choice but to.

-

Simple. Mission off-world. A potential new life-form and a new civilization was in the job description of the Enterprise, and so the captain needed an away team. Even with the arguments, of course, Leonard always got roped into it, and even though he pretended to be a gruff, no-nonsense kind of guy, he usually got up to nonsense with Captain Kirk.

“When’s the shuttle leaving?” you asked, sitting on the edge of the bed as you reached for your communicator. You hadn’t heard any kind of beeping, but it never hurt to keep checking for missed messages.

“Tomorrow morning, 0800,” he said with a groan. You could picture his eyes rolling, and the bed creaked a little as he rolled onto his side, fingers beginning to glide over the skin on your back, connecting some unknown dots. “Jim told Sulu to do some maneuverin’ with the ship to make sure we could find a place to land, hopefully in an optimal location.”

He always dropped his g’s when he was tired, and when you turned to face him, he looked it. The week hadn’t been kind to him, or the crew, and the kind heart you’d gotten more and more of a peek at during shifts ached when the crew suffered. Especially when it felt preventable, or some kind of misplaced wrath the universe decided to throw on good people. You’d gotten to know him, almost by accident, and that made you smile a little bit more.

“I didn’t think the great Dr. McCoy could get up that early,” you teased, and his hand stopped roaming to curl on your hip.

“Oh, I dunno,” he purred, and there was that smirk of his, just as brilliant of a victory as the first time you urged it out of him. “Maybe if I get real tired out that eight hours won’t be too hard to find. Could wake up bright and early, and well-rested.”

Your laugh was light, and you matched the quirk of his lips with your own, leaning forward to take a couple of kisses from him before whispering in his ear. “Something tells me you’re always a pain in the ass to get up in the mornings.”

That got a pinch from him, but you barely felt it as you giggled, the look on his face, a little sweet and a little sour, completely worth it. His expressions were things you sought out, earned. It felt nice, to know you were responsible for the sweet.

A few minutes later you felt him slide into the shower behind you, hands wrapping around your waist as his mouth teased a moan from you as it roamed over your neck.

“You’re lucky turtlenecks aren’t in regulation,” he murmured, choosing to bite on your shoulder as his finger brushed over your hips. “Though I have half a mind to convince you to ignore regulation.” His words made you shiver with that half-promise, and smile with his teasing, but you made sure to level a look as you turned to face him.  

“So you can skip the consequences while you’re on-planet? I don’t think so. In fact, I think the regs are saving me from an inordinate amount of concealer purchases,” you shot at him, reaching up with your hand to gently pat on his cheek. The water made his hair flat and stick to his forehead, a situation you rectified as your brushed it back. “Don’t make me kick your ass.”

“Kick my ass, huh?” he grumbled, but it was half-heartedly and with a smile as he leaned in to kiss you. You stayed like that for a while, kissing under the warm spray, and when you pulled away it was so you could use the soap to lather up, offering it to him so he could get your back.

“I could kick your ass from here to New Vulcan, and don’t you forget it.”

The moment ended. Like all moments, there was a start and a finish, and the finish line came roaring into view as you heard him hum out a little tune as the soap foamed on your skin. Unfortunately, your eyes were closed, so you didn’t see it. You were humming something from the home world as he muttered to himself.

“Mm, I’m gonna miss you, Y/N.”

And, well. Wasn’t that… a sentence, at the very least.

One that made your insides twist up. Not unpleasantly, not completely, but something like fear and a little bit of delighted glee tangled to make your chest ache, your stomach turn. And with all of that, doubt decided to rear its ugly head, starting a pain right behind your eyes.

“You mean you’re going to miss my body,” you offered. A simple rectification, something that could make something like feelings go away. “I don’t blame you, it’s a great one.”

“Hmm?” Leonard was barely paying attention, eyes focused on the middle of your back, the soap against your skin as he assisted in scrubbing.

“You’re not going miss me.”

That made him stop. Stop kissing you for sure, and when you turned to face him it was because he spun you around, his dark brows furrowed together so tightly they almost seemed to join above his nose. “Well, that’s comin’ outta nowhere. What do you mean I’m not gonna miss you?”

“I mean that,” you said with a sigh, rolling your eyes, feeling the spray hit your back wash away the soap for long enough that you could twist back and turn it off completely. “You’re not going to miss a thing. It’s a landing party. You’ll be gone for a couple days and then you’ll be back.” With that, you figured the conversation over, and your hand reached to pull back the glass door. You were sliding out when you realized he wasn’t following, just staring at you, those brows now adjusted so that his face looked completely pinched.

“So, what, I can’t miss you? D’you think I don’t care about you, Y/N?” Leonard said, and he sounded… almost shocked. Surprised, even, but your rolling eyes made it clear that kind of act wasn’t exactly convincing.

“I’m not saying you hate me,” you replied, shrugging as you held your towel around you, reaching for something softer to wrap around your hair. “I’m just saying that we have a lot of fun having sex, and that’s okay if that’s all it is. You don’t have to pretend like there’s anything more.” That’s how it went. How it went before, at least.

This time he did follow, stepping out of the shower, catching the towel you threw at him, and the next few minutes were spent in silence. Tension filled the air, just like the steam, and you pressed the button for the vent a couple of times before realizing that it was shorted out. Great.

And then you realized that Leonard was… silent. An odd thing for him, especially when the two of you didn’t have clothes on. When you looked back at him, the wheels were definitely turning, and his lips were a little pursed, but he didn’t offer anything up as your eyes met, just looked you over as you reached for your toothbrush.

“Something on your mind, doctor?” you managed, keeping your tone teasing, but before you could get to your nightly routine, finish cleaning up, his hand reached out to cover yours on the brush, lowering it from your mouth. It was rough, from Georgia calluses and from Starfleet scars. “Leonard… I’m not the captain, you can speak freely.”

“Y/N… you think there’s nothing more here?” he asked, and his deep eyes met yours with an intensity that made you swallow, mouth falling a little open as you stared back.

Was he that dense? It wasn’t like he made anything else an option. “Considering that during shifts you only call me ‘nurse’ and after shifts you don’t talk to me at all except for a joke or a comm when you wanna bunk over, I’d say it’s a fair assessment.” Your hand pulled away from his so that you could cross your arms over your chest, leaning against the bathroom sink.

And that… well. You’d see Leonard McCoy grumpy; you’d seen him angry, even, but this was… something else. More like sullen. A shadow seemed to fall over his features, and he pulled his gaze away to look at himself in the mirror.

“What, do you think there is?” you asked, not even scoffing at it, just raising your own brow, and when he heard that he seemed to shut down even more, the hand that had held yours reaching to hold his towel up. Your eyes widened a bit, and there was a tightness in your chest again, fierce and almost like hope, and your hand still seemed to thrum with the gentle touch he’d offered. “Doc… do you?”

But before any more could be said, or done, his eyes, unreadable, pulled away from the mirror to meet yours, narrowed, dark.

“No. That’s obviously ridiculous, ain’t it?”

It was mean. It was plain mean, sarcastic, almost caustic as it came from his lips, and as you watched him say it you could barely blink. Even when you first met, he’d never been that dismissive, that cruel, and you forced yourself to look away, holding your own towel close against yourself. Crushed, maybe? And then anger. Pure anger.

“Yeah. Obviously.”

You pushed off of the sink, and when you opened the bathroom door with the slam of another button, the steam rushed out along with you. Leonard followed soon after, but you didn’t dare make eye contact with him, instead making sure you kept covered as you moved to your drawers to find new clothes for yourself.

“You should go. I’m gonna call an engineer for the vent, wouldn’t want anyone to see you in here,” you called over your shoulder, still refusing to make eye contact.

“Right. Wouldn’t want anyone to see us,” he scoffed, and when you turned around, it was with narrowed eyes of your own.

“No, I wouldn’t. Unlike you, I’ve still got a respect for regulations that don’t involve our sick bay.”

“Is that all you care about, then? Regulations?”

His pants were already on, pulled up with enough indignation that you had to roll your eyes again, yanking up your shorts with matched intensity.

“Excuse me? No, Dr. McCoy, I care about my job. Believe it or not, between the two of us, I do think I’m more likely to get punished for this little thing we have going on,” you snapped, “and I would like to keep my position on a starship for a little while longer.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” His voice was well above normal decibel now, a hand pulling through his wet hair. “You sayin’ I would leave you out to dry?”

“I’m saying only one of us is close personal friends with the captain of the Enterprise, Leonard. Whether you like it or not, that’s how politics work. The ones with connections get protected.” Your eyes closed, your hands clenching into fists as you felt memories wash over you, your first posting playing in your mind.

“Y/N, I wouldn’t do that.” His blue shirt was on now, a bit wrinkled, but otherwise without any obvious signs of wear. Easy enough to explain. “And Jim wouldn’t let that happen, you know that!”

When you opened your eyes again, he was dressed – he was Dr. Leonard McCoy, chief medical officer of the Starship Enterprise, and you… well. You were just a nurse, weren’t you?

“No, Dr. McCoy,” you said with a sigh, voice small, tired. “That’s not something I know at all.”

His eyes got big then tightly closed, a hand coming up to pinch at the bridge of his nose, a headache fighting him, surely. Another time you would’ve offered him a water, something oral he could take for the pain, but in that moment, you just felt a little empty and very ready for bed.

“Have a good mission,” you offered, as something like an olive branch. To keep the pain from being something that’d cause you both a nightmare at work. But when he nodded, he could barely look at you, and the door to your quarters slid shut in the silence.

-

“You wanna talk about it, Y/N?” Christine asked, as you laid back on her bed, eyes staring up at the ceiling as she got ready for her shift. When she saw you the day after your fight with Leo – well, with Dr. McCoy, she insisted on you coming over after your rotation.

“Talk about what?” you asked, before rolling so your face could be shoved into a pillow.

“I asked to be polite,” she shot back, and when you looked at her, her gaze was pointed. “What I should really say is that you’re going to talk about it, so you’ll feel better and so I can solve your problem.”

“I can solve my own problems,” you groaned out. But it was muffled enough that Christine could feign ignoring it when she came to sit next to you.

“I know that. But when you’re close to the situation it can be tough.”

Another groan.

“Y/N. I’m on your side. Talk to me,” Christine basically commanded, and with a peek out with one eye you rolled back on your back, huffing.

“I got into a fight with Dr. McCoy,” you got out, rubbing a hand over your face. Of course, Christine didn’t say anything, but she did seem to squint, pushing you on. “Before he left on his land mission with the usual crowd. He’d come over, we had sex, and afterwards when we were in the shower, he… said he’d miss me. While he was on the surface.”

There was no immediately reply. When you looked at her again, she seemed to be confused, confirmed by her glance up and down your body on her bed. “And the fight happened after that?”

“Yes.”

You described the situation. You talked about the way he looked at you, the way he touched you, and then the way he shot down anything more with a word. You talked about the way you questioned his feelings, the way you threw his position in his face, and the way he finished it all off by leaving without another word. By the time you were done, Christine’s face had gone through various versions of horrified, and your face was beet red with something like shame.

“So, a doctor and a nurse can’t talk to each other,” she started. “Sounds like the beginning to a bad joke.”

“No joke here,” you offered, swallowing tightly. “Just a big fucking mess. And now he’s on-planet, so I can’t… y’know. Do something sane like apologize.”

She hummed before standing up again, moving to a drawer to find a clean skirt to pull on. “Just overthink.”

A nod from you, and she hummed again, something that made you sit up, the pillow you’d interacted with before now pulled to your chest. “So. What can I do?”

And with a long look from her, she just sighed, sitting down so she could rest a hand over your fingers, giving them a loving pat even as she toed her shoes on.

“I think the first question is, Y/N – what do you want?”

-

The talk with Christine could only last so long. She had a shift to report to, and you had a shower that needed fixing, but even in a short amount of time Christine gave you a lot to think about. Something you pondered over for the next few days, as Leonard and the captain and the commander beamed up and down, back and forth, exploring a strange new world.

That left you a lot of time to think about what you wanted.

You wanted Leonard. Christine didn’t need to tell you that much. But you wanted more than the routine. More than the fucking whenever schedules could allow. You wanted more than moments stolen away and nights apart. You wanted to know him. You wanted to listen to him ramble about the horrors of intergalactic travel and rave about Jim Kirk and rant about the stupidity of the bridge crew. You wanted to see that smirk that sent chills up your spine and that smile that left you feeling warm.

Hell, you wanted more.

But, of course, when you figured it out, well. That’s when it all went to shit. Three days after Leonard left your quarters, to be precise.  

“Bones!”

The captain’s nickname, usually full of teasing and life, sounded like it was ripped out of him, like the pain of saying it almost outweighed what happened. Your fingers were busy running scans over Scotty, who had half a swollen face and a steadily rising heart rate, and the soundtrack to you shooting him up with diphenhydramine was the sound of Leonard’s groans, the kind that made your blood run cold. The only reason you heard them was because Commander Spock had an open channel between here and the surface, and he was prepping to beam down again.

“Did you see what you got slashed by?” you urged, forcing Scotty to focus on you as you did your best to stifle the bleeding with some clean gauze over the spot. “Scotty, tell me, what’s going on down there?”

“It was a trap,” he got out, his words thick as one side of his mouth was prohibiting movement due to the swelling. “Jim and the doctor got the brunt of it. We just… we just thought…” he mumbled, and you called out for another nurse as he began to tumble forward.

“Get him to a biobed, and keep that gauze on him!” you ordered, watching as the other nurse helped Scotty limp over to a free space. “I’ll prep the fluids.”

The whole ship was on red alert. Captain Kirk was getting ambushed, and for some reason hadn’t been beamed back aboard. But all you could think about was Leonard. Down there, obviously hurt, and you couldn’t do a damn thing about it.

It scared you. It really, really scared you.

“Nurse,” Commander Spock called out, and you turned to face him, realizing you’d frozen in your spot, the bag of fluids for Scotty still in your hands. “From what I saw before arriving back on the ship, we’ll need an osteo-regenerator and a blood transfusion when I return. Do we have types that match for the captain and the chief medical officer?”

“We’ve got O- for both,” you responded, before rushing to Scotty to give the nurse attending to him the fluids he needed. “Who else is on the surface?”

“After the last round, no one. We’re lucky the degree of injuries was not more serious, considering their advanced weaponry.”

You glanced around at the medbay, a good proportion of the biobeds filled and medical staff filling the place to capacity, treating the wide array of pain. “Yeah. Lucky. I’ll have two biobeds waiting.”

Another moan, from the communicator, one that made your heart stop. Your hand reached up to rest on your chest, swallowing tightly as you thought about Leonard in that much pain.

And after Spock left, leaving you to rush to assist the doctors as they began move from bed to bed, it was all you could think about. Almost all of your regenerators were in use, and your tricorders were buzzing like nobody’s business, but the noise was nothing compared to the pounding of your heart, the thought of him dying down there.

And then, you heard it. Another groan of pain, Captain Kirk’s panicked voice as they began their movement towards the beds awaiting them.

“God… goddammit…”

“Sulu, get us out of here now!”

“Aye, Captain!”

They seemed to stumble around the corner, and when the arrived, three nurses could help support their weight. The Captain’s upper arm looked like it had a bite taken out of it, and his cheek was marred with what looked like slashes, but Leonard… oh, Leonard.

“What happened?” you breathed out, your eyes widening in horror.

His leg was broken. That much was clear, and the angle made you sick, the way the bone seemed to show through the damage. But what was much worse was the stab wound to the gut, sluggishly dripping blood through his own fingers as he tried to staunch the flow.

When his eyes seemed to scan the room, he barely seemed in it, and when they met yours, something seemed to come over him. “Y/N,” he groaned, coughing as he was lifted and laid onto the bed waiting him. “Y/N, I – I need to… tell you…”

“Leonard, I need you to save your strength, okay? Oh, god, we’re gonna need more blood,” you called out, and another nurse scurried away, Dr. M’Benga coming alongside you to assess the situation.

“Nurse Y/L/N,” he commanded, “and Nurse Chapel! We need to focus on the stomach wound, I’m worried about what could be perforated. Dr. McCoy, this is Dr. M’Benga, can you hear me?”

“Computer, raise the lights over biobed seven 15%!” Christine yelled out, her own face pale, but focused. “Let’s get him oxygen, his sats are below 85!”

“Heart rate is 140, BP is dropping. We need fluid replacement and two IVs placed, stat!” you cried.

“Y/N… please…”

“Let’s prep the crash cart.”

“I need a suture and a drainage set.”

“What does that reading say? Bump the O2 two liters.”

“Y/N…”

But he could only look at you, even as his eyes seemed to close, even as the world seemed to fade away. Your eyes were starting to blur with tears, but you blinked them away – you had a job to do, and that job was keeping him here, and alive, and safe. “Leonard, I swear to God, you are not dying on me now. Not now, not ever, you hear me? Leonard. Leonard? … no.

No.

Leonard!”

-

Somehow, he pulled through. Somehow, Dr. Leonard McCoy didn’t die that day. Somehow, all he’d walk away with was a scar on his stomach and a few rounds of bone regeneration scheduled throughout the following week. He stayed unconscious for a good chunk of that time, but between the moments awake the crew marveled at the resilience of their chief medical officer.

“There’s… there’s no way Bones could die on a starship, y’know?” Captain Kirk told you, as you both lingered by his bedside. “He stayed alive out of spite.” His voice seemed a little thick, but you didn’t mention it, just smiled weakly at him as you held his hand,.

And when it was just you and him, and his eyes were closed and his breathing was steady, you stuck around. The other nurses whispered and the other officers raised a brow, but you barely noticed.

A mission. One mission, and that could’ve been it. That’s all you could think about it, and as you sat by his side, your shifts for once coming second, you found yourself thanking whatever you could think of that it wasn’t over.

“Oh, Leonard.”

Your hands enclosed around one of his. He spent more time with his eyes open than closed nowadays, but when his eyes were open you often excused yourself, giving him time with Jim and the bridge crew. You took your step back, just knowing he was calling to you as he lay on that fucking bed, and when his eyes closed again you resumed your place, sitting back and watching or keeping his fingers warm.

One day, about two weeks into his recovery, your replicated coffee was the only thing keeping you on your feet when you felt a tap on your shoulder. When you turned around, you were shocked to find the captain, now more like an acquaintance, rather than another nurse. “Hey, Y/N.”

“Oh. Hello, Captain. Did you need something?”

“Nothing personally,” he replied with a small smile, but his hands were clasped behind his back now. “It’s Bones. He’s asking for you.”

You felt your heart begin racing, and the mug in your hands was held with white knuckles. “Oh. Is that right?”

“Yeah.”

There was a brief pause, and you found yourself staring at your coffee, mouth open with words you weren’t sure how to say. “Captain… I – I don’t know if it’s a good idea. The last time we talked…”

“Please, call me Jim,” the man asked, lifting a hand to stop you. “And… look. Y/N. I know what happened, all right? Between the two of you.”

“Oh. That’s… that’s… uh.” As you stared up at him your mind began to race, your coffee lifted just so you could have something to do, but his eyes didn’t pull away from yours, his mouth twisted into something… pensive.

What could you say? What could you even dare to say, knowing that he knew everything? that surely this was the last step in the road? “Look, Captain,” you finally said, voice low, “I can… I can resign, if that’s what you want. I understand, what we did, it was unprofessional, and I take full –“

“What?”

When you blinked, coming back to your senses, the captain looked horrified, like you’d grown a second head, and you found your hands lifting in surrender.

“I do. I take full responsibility, and if you want to transfer me to another ship, I understand.”

“What? No, no, Y/N. Stop. I don’t want your resignation. I just wanted to say that I think you and Bones should give it another go.”

Now it was your turn to look shocked, mouth agape as you lowered your coffee and stared at him, wondering where his second head would shoot from.

“You don’t – you don’t want my resignation?”

“Why would I want your resignation? Bones himself said you’re one of the best nurses on the crew. Why would I turn you away?”

Your mind was thrown back to your quarters, to the way Bones looked at you. That same horrified expression, at the idea of turning his back on you.

“It’s… it’s happened before. With a boss. I won’t get into details, but. Let’s just say my previous job wasn’t as great as this one is.”

If someone asked you to name one way to get Jim Kirk mad, well. Informing him that one of his crew had gotten royally screwed over by their previous boss was a pretty sure shot. The guy looked like he was going to punch someone, or more specifically, find the right person to punch.

“Look, Y/N, if you need me to direct this ship anywhere specific…”

“No!” It shocked a laugh out of you, the captain’s sudden fierceness, and you found yourself laughing almost too loudly, like after two weeks of pain the laughter had been pent up within you. You ended it with a smile, and wiping at your eyes. “No, it’s not – it’s over. It’s in the past, I promise. It’s what I was expecting, that’s all. To… to lose this. Thank you, Captain, for the offer, but. The past is best left in the past.”

There was a brief moment when the Captain looked like he had half a mind to ignore you, but thankfully, after five terrifying seconds, he nodded, crossing his arms over his chest. “All right. Well. No accidental murders today. But, look, ou should talk to him. To Bones. Something tells me he’s not gonna stop sending me to get you until you show up when he’s awake.”

“Right.” Your stomach churned, for a second, but the Captain – Jim – looked so earnest. Like he always did. So sincere. “Okay. I’ll head over.”

“You want me to walk you?”

Selfless. Considerate. You began to see the hype around Jim Kirk, and for the second time in that conversation, you smiled.

“Thank you, Jim. But I think it’s better if I go alone.”

-

When you pulled aside the privacy curtain, Leonard was very much awake, as well as proving why doctors made the worst patients.

His thin blanket was thrown aside, on to the ground, and Christine looked like she was about two more minutes away from reporting a murder in the medical bay. Leonard, on the other hand, barely had her in mind as he yelled in a voice rough from a period of disuse, sitting on the edge of his biobed, ready to jump ship. His hair was ragged around the edges, and his five o’clock shadow had grown out to a full beard, unkempt and scratched at as he moved. “Nurse Chapel, I am telling you, if I spend one more goddamn night here, I am gonna lose it. How the hell else am I supposed to rehabilitate this leg if you won’t even let me walk from here to the goddamn door?”

“Dr. McCoy, I am begging you to please wait until I have the wheelchair ready for you. The regenerated bone still needs time to adjust, and your dermatological regen hasn’t even finished yet. Not to mention you’re definitely not strong enough to travel anywhere on your own,” she stated plainly, arms crossed over her chest.  

“I can live with a scar, Nurse Chapel, and I sure as hell ain’t a goddamn foal,” the man started again, reaching for the edge of the biobed. As he did, you watched his blood pressure drop from the position change, and with a sigh you moved to be in perfect catching position. “Lord knows I’m a doctor and not a fuckin’ physical therapist, but I’m telling you I can at least walk right over there to where the door is and make it back to my own… goddamn… bed…”

As he began to sway, you moved forward to lean him back in the bed, smiling at Christine as she came about his other side to rearrange his legs, covering him back up with the blanket.

“Well, looks like I came just in time,” you said with a smirk, and when you looked up at Christine she was laughing.

“And it looks like you’ve got him handled for the moment. I need to prep his next round of hypos, he’s still on some antibiotics after those open wounds,” she explained, glaring at the patient, who had recovered from his bout of dizziness and found himself looking up at you. And only you, since Christine walked out and closed the curtain behind her, leaving the two of you alone.

“Y/N,” Leonard said, his voice softer now that he was calmed, your hands moving over him and adjusting his blanket. His eyes hadn’t met yours yet, but you could feel them on you as you pulled back from fidgeting with it. “You’re here.”

“You did want the captain to come find me, right?” you asked, biting your lower lip as you glanced toward the door. “If you need someone else, I can go track them down…”

But before you could even think about taking a step, his head was shaking, those brilliant eyes looking up at you from his supine position, those dark brows furrowed as he looked you over. “There’s no one else, Y/N. He got the right gal.”

You could only nod, swallowing, glancing down at the bandages you could see the outline of through the blanket.

Leonard followed your gaze, and his eyes narrowed when he saw what you were looking at, tilting his head to the side so he didn’t have to look for too long. It was a bad memory, that only made the breakthrough pain worse. “They’re mainly for support, now, but… it wasn’t good, how I ended up.”

“I know, doc,” you whispered. “I was there.”

But what the both of you really knew, as you stood beside his bed, was the dance you two were managing to avoid the real conversation. The one that had your hands wringing just out of his line of sight, the one that had his head beginning to ache.

“I can… start us off,” Leonard offered, but you shook your head, eyes closing tight.

“No!” Your voice was desperate, and he just gaped, watching you shake your heard. “No, I owe you an explanation. And you… deserve one, after what I said.” With a soft sigh, you settled in the seat next to the biobed, one hand squeezing your own knee.

But. Where to start.

“The last time… I was in a relationship – a real relationship, I guess – was about a year and a half ago,” you sighed. Your eyes were open, but you didn’t look at Leonard, didn’t watch his lips curl into a frown, didn’t watch his fingers tap on the sheets. Instead, you stared straight ahead, finding yourself lost in the memories.

“He was a doctor, at the hospital I worked at. It was a Federation hospital, with direct ties to Starfleet, so we saw a lot of more serious cases, especially with the Academy basically on our doorstep. It was… my dream, to work there, basically since I left school. My mother had been treated there my entire life, and Starfleet was more of a path to that dream, treating cadets off-mission than anything. A fantastic research and teaching hospital working with the Federation, one that wasn’t in ship?”

Your hands were still wringing, and as you glanced at Leonard, he seemed to be listening, breathing steady.

“When I started working there, though, I realized how relentless it was. How anyone would do anything to get over anyone else. And the doctor. He – he was incredible.” You managed a smile, but it was sad around the edges, even as you let out a little chuckle. “Witty, and funny, and incredibly talented, and when I got to know him that’s all I saw. The wit, and the humor. But as we got closer, and more involved, I started to see more. I saw behind what he showed his patients, and the other nurses, I saw – well, I saw the mistrust of patient reports, I saw the ego, and… well. I saw the danger he was putting himself in, and his coworkers, not to mention those he cared for. We began to fight, and he would make me swear not to tell anyone, saying that it would ruin his career, and that if I did it… well. He’d make sure I’d pay.”

Your hands were fists now, apart, the knuckles so white it ached. You didn’t even notice Leonard’s hand on top of yours until you felt the warmth, let it leech into your joints.

“I thought I had loved him, I really did, but the things he was doing. It was more than just snagging a narcotic hypo. He would ignore real concerns of his patients because he just didn’t care for them. And then when I’d bring it up, angry and frustrated at unnecessary pain and consequences, he’d brush it off. He thought he was invincible.” Your nails were digging into your palms again, and you huffed, shaking your head.

“So, I turned him in, to the hospital. Called his bluff. I showed them the notes he was making in his paper files, I had evidence for everything. I figured that maybe he’d get punished, and after… it’d all be okay. But.”

“Y/N,” Leonard murmured, but you shook your head.

“By the time I turned him in he’d already prepped his whole story. And, what’s more, he had a fall guy. Me. So, when I turned in all the proof, they laughed in my face, and then – and then…”

“They kicked you out. On the curb,” he supplied, and you nodded.

“I almost got my license revoked for the shit they accused me of. But, thankfully, the worst punishment I got was transferring. And then I met you…”

“And it felt like it all over again?”

He thankfully didn’t mention the tears in your eyes as you finished, or the way you wiped them away as you shook your head.

“Not even close! It’s… it’s different here. Everyone on this ship is incredible, and the whole staff here was kind, and considerate. And you were abrasive, sure, but… I just felt like I had to prove myself. And so, after a year, when you stumbled onto me and Christine, I just – I just needed to prove I was competent. And then when it started to become more than just sex, I – I got scared.”

“Y/N,” Leonard whispered, and you stood up, gripping his hand now, managing to smile at him as you did.

“I know you’re not him.” You squeezed his fingers, and he squeezed yours back, but you were already pushing forward, eyes closed tightly. “I know that. But I just got so worried that I would – I would find out that this awesome doctor, that loves his patients, that cares for them, didn’t care about me. And I’d get duped again.”

There was silence. The sound of the machines, the whirr of the biobed as it took another reading for Leonard’s vitals, but when you opened your eyes to look at him, he was staring right back, something like a shine in his eyes as well.

“Darlin’,” he whispered. “You’re an incredible nurse. A badass healer. And more than that, I – goddammit, I care about you. More than you could ever know. Hell, when I first kissed you, I knew that you were special. You’re not just competent, you’re outstanding.”

“Leonard,” you breathed, but he squeezed your fingers again, pulling them to his lips with a huff.

“Y/N. When I was on that god-forsaken planet, you know the last person I thought of, the last moment I had in my mind?”

You shook your head, but he was already smiling, lost in his own thoughts.

“You. You, whirling around on me in the bay, pointing your finger, kissing me. You, taking care of patients. You, you, and you, and all that we had. All that we have. And I thought to myself, that if I stayed alive, I would head back to that starship and beg her for more.”

That got a laugh out of you, wet with tears and heavy with exhaustion, but you laughed, and you laughed, and you leaned your head down to rest it on his chest, something like peace overwhelming you as his lips pressed into your hair.

“I want more, too, Leonard,” you finally whispered, and when you pulled your head back it was to see the way his smile looked before you kissed it off of him.

-

“So,” Jim started, sliding off of his biobed as he watched you and Leonard, well, show off some PDA once Bones was back on his feet. It was more subtle than it could’ve been, his hand resting on the small of your back, your heads together as you looked over scheduling for the next week. “They finally fix things?”

“About a week late in noticing, but yeah. That’s what it looks like,” Christine offered, barely glancing up as she offered a hypospray for pain to one of the yeoman who’d been down to offer some sort of backup to a brawl in the engineering bay.

“Huh.” The captain stared for a moment, before shaking his head, letting out a little chuckle. “Well. Good for them. Bones wouldn’t ever shut up about her.”

Christine managed a little laugh herself. “Oh, don’t worry. That was mutual. I can’t believe they survived this long without making out in his office.”

That made him wince. “Chris, please tell me the biobeds were not involved.”

Which made her laugh even harder. “Don’t worry, Captain. We disinfect after each use.”